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+ The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Poetry of Architecture, by John Ruskin.
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Poetry of Architecture, by John Ruskin
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Poetry of Architecture
+
+Author: John Ruskin
+
+Release Date: February 16, 2006 [EBook #17774]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE POETRY OF ARCHITECTURE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Suzanne Lybarger, and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<h3>THE COMPLETE WORKS</h3>
+
+<h4>OF</h4>
+
+<h2>JOHN RUSKIN</h2>
+
+<hr style="width: 5%;" />
+
+<h3>VOLUME I</h3>
+
+
+<h4>POETRY OF ARCHITECTURE</h4>
+
+<h4>SEVEN LAMPS OF ARCHITECTURE</h4>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p class="figcenter"><img src="./images/portrait.jpg"
+alt="J. Ruskin" title="J. Ruskin" /></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h5>Library Edition</h5>
+
+<h2>THE COMPLETE WORKS</h2>
+
+<h3>OF</h3>
+
+<h1>JOHN RUSKIN</h1>
+
+
+<h4>POETRY OF ARCHITECTURE<br />
+SEVEN LAMPS<br />
+MODERN PAINTERS</h4>
+
+<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Volume I</span></p>
+
+
+<h5>NATIONAL LIBRARY ASSOCIATION<br />
+NEW YORK, CHICAGO</h5>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h1>THE POETRY OF ARCHITECTURE;</h1>
+
+<h3>OR,</h3>
+
+<h3>THE ARCHITECTURE OF THE NATIONS OF EUROPE
+CONSIDERED IN ITS ASSOCIATION WITH NATURAL SCENERY
+AND NATIONAL CHARACTER.</h3>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS.</h2>
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" id="Contents" summary="Contents">
+<tr><td align='right' colspan="3">PAGE</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align='left'><a href="#INTRODUCTION">INTRODUCTION</a></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align='left'><a href="#PART_I"><i>PART I.</i>&mdash;THE COTTAGE.</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>I.</td><td align='left'>THE LOWLAND COTTAGE&mdash;ENGLAND AND FRANCE</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>II.</td><td align='left'>THE LOWLAND COTTAGE&mdash;ITALY</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_15">15</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>III.</td><td align='left'>THE MOUNTAIN COTTAGE&mdash;SWITZERLAND</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>IV.</td><td align='left'>THE MOUNTAIN COTTAGE&mdash;WESTMORELAND</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_35">35</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>V.</td><td align='left'>A CHAPTER ON CHIMNEYS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_45">45</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>VI.</td><td align='left'>THE COTTAGE&mdash;CONCLUDING REMARKS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_57">57</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align='left'><a href="#PART_II"><i>PART II.</i>&mdash;THE VILLA.</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>I.</td><td align='left'>THE MOUNTAIN VILLA&mdash;LAGO DI COMO</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_67">67</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>II.</td><td align='left'>THE MOUNTAIN VILLA&mdash;LAGO DI COMO (CONTINUED)</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_80">80</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>III.</td><td align='left'>THE ITALIAN VILLA (CONCLUDED)</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_94">94</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>IV.</td><td align='left'>THE LOWLAND VILLA&mdash;ENGLAND</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_104">104</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>V.</td><td align='left'>THE ENGLISH VILLA&mdash;PRINCIPLES OF COMPOSITION</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_113">113</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right' valign='top'>VI.</td><td align='left'>THE BRITISH VILLA.&mdash;PRINCIPLES OF COMPOSITION.<br />
+(THE CULTIVATED, OR BLUE COUNTRY, AND THE WOODED, OR GREEN COUNTRY)</td><td align='right' valign='bottom'><a href="#Page_126">126</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right' valign='top'>VII.</td><td align='left'>THE BRITISH VILLA.&mdash;PRINCIPLES OF COMPOSITION. <br />(THE HILL, OR BROWN COUNTRY)</td><td align='right' valign='bottom'><a href="#Page_145">145</a></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="LIST_OF_PLATES" id="LIST_OF_PLATES"></a>LIST OF PLATES.</h2>
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" id="Plates" summary="Plates">
+<tr><td align='right' colspan="3">Facing Page</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='center'>Fig.</td><td align='left'><a href="#fig01">1.</a> Old Windows; from an early sketch by the Author</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_13">13</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='center'> "</td><td align='left'><a href="#fig02">2.</a> Italian Cottage Gallery, 1846</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_20">20</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='center'></td><td align='left'>Cottage near la Cit&eacute;, Val d'Aosta, 1838</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_21">21</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='center'> "</td><td align='left'><a href="#fig03">3.</a> Swiss Cottage, 1837. (Reproduced from the Architectural Magazine)</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_28">28</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='center'> "</td><td align='left'><a href="#fig04">4.</a> Cottage near Altorf, 1835</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_29">29</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='center'> "</td><td align='left'><a href="#fig05">5.</a> Swiss Ch&acirc;let Balcony, 1842</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_32">32</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='center'> "</td><td align='left'><a href="#fig06">6.</a> The Highest House in England, at Malham</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_42">42</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='center'> "</td><td align='left'><a href="#fig07">7.</a> Chimneys. (Eighteen sketches redrawn from the Architectural Magazine)</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_48">48</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='center'> "</td><td align='left'><a href="#fig08">8.</a> Coniston Hall, from the Lake near Brantwood, 1837. (Reproduced from the Architectural Magazine)</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_50">50</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='center'> "</td><td align='left'><a href="#fig02">9.</a> Chimney at Neuchatel; Dent du Midi and Mont Blanc in the distance</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_20">20</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='center'> "</td><td align='left'><a href="#fig10">10.</a> Petrarch's Villa, Arqu&agrave;, 1837. (Redrawn from the Architectural Magazine)</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_98">98</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='center'> "</td><td align='left'><a href="#fig11">11.</a> Broken Curves. (Three diagrams, redrawn from the Architectural Magazine)</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_101">101</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='center'> "</td><td align='left'><a href="#fig12">12.</a> Old English Mansion, 1837. (Reproduced from the Architectural Magazine)</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_116">116</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='center'> "</td><td align='left'><a href="#fig13">13.</a> Windows. (Three designs, reproduced from the Architectural Magazine)</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_122">122</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='center'> "</td><td align='left'><a href="#fig14">14.</a> Leading Lines of Villa-Composition. (Diagram redrawn from the Architectural Magazine)</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_164">164</a></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span></p>
+<h2>PREFATORY NOTES.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Of this work Mr. <span class="smcap">Ruskin</span> says in his Autobiography:&mdash;"The idea
+had come into my head in the summer of '37, and, I imagine, rose
+immediately out of my sense of the contrast between the cottages of
+Westmoreland and those of Italy. Anyhow, the November number of Loudon's
+<i>Architectural Magazine</i> for 1837 opens with 'Introduction to the Poetry
+of Architecture; or the Architecture of the Nations of Europe considered
+in its Association with Natural Scenery and National Character,' by Kata
+Phusin. I could not have put in fewer, or more inclusive words, the
+definition of what half my future life was to be spent in discoursing
+of; while the <i>nom-de-plume</i> I chose, '<span class="smcap">According to Nature</span>,'
+was equally expressive of the temper in which I was to discourse alike
+on that, and every other subject. The adoption of a <i>nom-de-plume</i> at
+all implied (as also the concealment of name on the first publication of
+'Modern Painters') a sense of a power of judgment in myself, which it
+would not have been becoming in a youth of eighteen to claim...."</p>
+
+<p>"As it is, these youthful essays, though deformed by assumption, and
+shallow in contents, are curiously right up to the points they reach;
+and already distinguished above most of the literature of the time, for
+the skill of language, which the public at once felt for a pleasant gift
+in me." (<i>Pr&aelig;terita</i>, vol. I. chap. 12.)</p>
+
+<p>In a paper on "My First Editor," written in 1878, Mr. Ruskin says of
+these essays that they "contain sentences nearly as well put together as
+any I have done since."</p>
+
+<p>The Conductor of the <i>Architectural Magazine</i> in reviewing the year's
+work said (December, 1838):&mdash;"One series of papers, commenced in the
+last volume and concluded in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</a></span> the present one, we consider to be of
+particular value to the young architect. We allude to the 'Essays on the
+Poetry of Architecture,' by Kata Phusin. These essays will afford little
+pleasure to the mere builder, or to the architect who has no principle
+of guidance but precedent; but for such readers they were never
+intended. They are addressed to the young and unprejudiced artist; and
+their great object is to induce him to think and to exercise his
+reason.... There are some, we trust, of the rising generation, who are
+able to free themselves from the trammels and architectural bigotry of
+Vitruvius and his followers; and it is to such alone that we look
+forward for any real improvement in architecture as an art of design and
+taste."</p>
+
+<p>The essays are in two parts: the first describing the cottages of
+England, France, Switzerland, and Italy, and giving hints and directions
+for picturesque cottage-building. The second part treats of the villas
+of Italy and England&mdash;with special reference to Como and Windermere; and
+concludes with a discussion of the laws of artistic composition, and
+practical suggestions of interest to the builders of country-houses.</p>
+
+<p>It was the Author's original intention to have proceeded from the
+cottage and the villa to the higher forms of Architecture; but the
+Magazine to which he contributed was brought to a close shortly after
+the completion of his chapters on the villa, and his promise of farther
+studies was not redeemed until ten years later, by the publication of
+<i>The Seven Lamps of Architecture</i>, and still more completely in <i>The
+Stones of Venice</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Other papers contributed by Mr. Ruskin to the same Magazine, on
+Perspective, and on the proposed monument to Sir Walter Scott at
+Edinburgh, are not included in this volume, as they do not form any part
+of the series on the Poetry of Architecture.</p>
+
+<p>The text is carefully reprinted from the <i>Architectural Magazine</i>. A few
+additional notes are distinguished by square brackets.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>A few of the old cuts, necessary to the text, are reproduced, and some
+are replaced by engravings from sketches by the Author. Possessors of
+the <i>Architectural Magazine</i>, vol. V., will be interested in comparing
+the wood-cut of the cottage in Val d'Aosta (p. 104 of that volume) with
+the photogravure from the original pencil drawing, which faces p. <a href="#Page_21">21</a> of
+this work. It is much to be regretted that the original of the Coniston
+Hall (<a href="#fig08">fig. 8</a>; p. <a href="#Page_50">50</a> of this work) has disappeared, and that the Author's
+youthful record of a scene so familiar to him in later years should be
+represented only by the harsh lines of Mr. Loudon's engraver.</p>
+
+<p style="text-align: right">THE EDITOR.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="INTRODUCTION" id="INTRODUCTION"></a>INTRODUCTION.</h2>
+
+
+<p>1. The Science of Architecture, followed out to its full extent, is one
+of the noblest of those which have reference only to the creations of
+human minds. It is not merely a science of the rule and compass, it does
+not consist only in the observation of just rule, or of fair proportion:
+it is, or ought to be, a science of feeling more than of rule, a
+ministry to the mind, more than to the eye. If we consider how much less
+the beauty and majesty of a building depend upon its pleasing certain
+prejudices of the eye, than upon its rousing certain trains of
+meditation in the mind, it will show in a moment how many intricate
+questions of feeling are involved in the raising of an edifice; it will
+convince us of the truth of a proposition, which might at first have
+appeared startling, that no man can be an architect, who is not a
+metaphysician.</p>
+
+<p>2. To the illustration of the department of this noble science which may
+be designated the Poetry of Architecture, this and some future articles
+will be dedicated. It is this peculiarity of the art which constitutes
+its nationality; and it will be found as interesting as it is useful, to
+trace in the distinctive characters of the architecture of nations, not
+only its adaptation to the situation and climate in which it has arisen,
+but its strong similarity to, and connection with, the prevailing turn
+of mind by which the nation who first employed it is distinguished.</p>
+
+<p>3. I consider the task I have imposed upon myself the more necessary,
+because this department of the science, perhaps regarded by some who
+have no ideas beyond stone and mortar as chimerical, and by others who
+think nothing necessary but truth and proportion as useless, is at a
+miser<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span>ably low ebb in England. And what is the consequence? We have
+Corinthian columns placed beside pilasters of no order at all,
+surmounted by monstrosified pepper-boxes, Gothic in form and Grecian in
+detail, in a building nominally and peculiarly "National"; we have Swiss
+cottages, falsely and calumniously so entitled, dropped in the
+brick-fields round the metropolis; and we have staring square-windowed,
+flat-roofed gentlemen's seats, of the lath and plaster,
+mock-magnificent, Regent's Park description, rising on the woody
+promontories of Derwentwater.</p>
+
+<p>4. How deeply is it to be regretted, how much is it to be wondered at,
+that, in a country whose school of painting, though degraded by its
+system of meretricious coloring, and disgraced by hosts of would-be
+imitators of inimitable individuals, is yet raised by the distinguished
+talent of those individuals to a place of well-deserved honor; and the
+studios of whose sculptors are filled with designs of the most pure
+simplicity, and most perfect animation; the school of architecture
+should be so miserably debased!</p>
+
+<p>5. There are, however, many reasons for a fact so lamentable. In the
+first place, the patrons of architecture (I am speaking of all classes
+of buildings, from the lowest to the highest), are a more numerous and
+less capable class than those of painting. The general public, and I say
+it with sorrow, because I know it from observation, have little to do
+with the encouragement of the school of painting, beyond the power which
+they unquestionably possess, and unmercifully use, of compelling our
+artists to substitute glare for beauty. Observe the direction of public
+taste at any of our exhibitions. We see visitors at that of the Society
+of Painters in Water Colors, passing Tayler with anathemas and Lewis
+with indifference, to remain in reverence and admiration before certain
+amiable white lambs and water-lilies, whose artists shall be nameless.
+We see them, in the Royal Academy, passing by Wilkie, Turner and
+Callcott, with shrugs of doubt or of scorn, to fix in gazing and
+enthusiastic crowds upon kettles-full of witches, and His<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> Majesty's
+ships so and so lying to in a gale, etc., etc. But these pictures attain
+no celebrity because the public admire them, for it is not to the public
+that the judgment is intrusted. It is by the chosen few, by our nobility
+and men of taste and talent, that the decision is made, the fame
+bestowed, and the artist encouraged.</p>
+
+<p>6. Not so in architecture. There, the power is generally diffused. Every
+citizen may box himself up in as barbarous a tenement as suits his taste
+or inclination; the architect is his vassal, and must permit him not
+only to criticise, but to perpetrate. The palace or the nobleman's seat
+may be raised in good taste, and become the admiration of a nation; but
+the influence of their owner is terminated by the boundary of his
+estate: he has no command over the adjacent scenery, and the possessor
+of every thirty acres around him has him at his mercy. The streets of
+our cities are examples of the effects of this clashing of different
+tastes; and they are either remarkable for the utter absence of all
+attempt at embellishment, or disgraced by every variety of abomination.</p>
+
+<p>7. Again, in a climate like ours, those few who have knowledge and
+feeling to distinguish what is beautiful, are frequently prevented by
+various circumstances from erecting it. John Bull's comfort perpetually
+interferes with his good taste, and I should be the first to lament his
+losing so much of his nationality, as to permit the latter to prevail.
+He cannot put his windows into a recess, without darkening his rooms; he
+cannot raise a narrow gable above his walls, without knocking his head
+against the rafters; and, worst of all, he cannot do either, without
+being stigmatized by the awful, inevitable epithet, of "a very odd man."
+But, though much of the degradation of our present school of
+architecture is owing to the want or the unfitness of patrons, surely it
+is yet more attributable to a lamentable deficiency of taste and talent
+among our architects themselves. It is true, that in a country affording
+so little encouragement, and presenting so many causes for its absence,
+it cannot be expected that we should have any Michael Angelo
+Buonarottis. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> energy of our architects is expended in raising "neat"
+poor-houses, and "pretty" charity schools; and, if they ever enter upon
+a work of higher rank, economy is the order of the day: plaster and
+stucco are substituted for granite and marble; rods of splashed iron for
+columns of verd-antique; and in the wild struggle after novelty, the
+fantastic is mistaken for the graceful, the complicated for the
+imposing, superfluity of ornament for beauty, and its total absence for
+simplicity.</p>
+
+<p>8. But all these disadvantages might in some degree be counteracted, all
+these abuses in some degree prevented, were it not for the slight
+attention paid by our architects to that branch of the art which I have
+above designated as the Poetry of Architecture. All unity of feeling
+(which is the first principle of good taste) is neglected; we see
+nothing but incongruous combination: we have pinnacles without height,
+windows without light, columns with nothing to sustain, and buttresses
+with nothing to support. We have parish paupers smoking their pipes and
+drinking their beer under Gothic arches and sculptured niches; and quiet
+old English gentlemen reclining on crocodile stools, and peeping out of
+the windows of Swiss ch&acirc;lets.</p>
+
+<p>9. I shall attempt, therefore, to endeavor to illustrate the principle
+from the neglect of which these abuses have arisen; that of unity of
+feeling, the basis of all grace, the essence of all beauty. We shall
+consider the architecture of nations as it is influenced by their
+feelings and manners, as it is connected with the scenery in which it is
+found, and with the skies under which it was erected; we shall be led as
+much to the street and the cottage as to the temple and the tower; and
+shall be more interested in buildings raised by feeling, than in those
+corrected by rule. We shall commence with the lower class of edifices,
+proceeding from the roadside to the village, and from the village to the
+city; and, if we succeed in directing the attention of a single
+individual more directly to this most interesting department of the
+science of architecture, we shall not have written in vain.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="PART_I" id="PART_I"></a><i>PART I.</i></h2>
+
+<h2>The Cottage.</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>THE LOWLAND COTTAGE:&mdash;ENGLAND, FRANCE, ITALY:</p>
+
+<p>THE MOUNTAIN COTTAGE:&mdash;SWITZERLAND AND WESTMORELAND:</p>
+
+<p>A CHAPTER ON CHIMNEYS:</p>
+
+<p>AND CONCLUDING REMARKS ON COTTAGE-BUILDING.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p>
+<h1>THE POETRY OF ARCHITECTURE.</h1>
+
+<hr style="width: 5%;" />
+
+<h3>I.</h3>
+
+<h2>THE LOWLAND COTTAGE&mdash;ENGLAND AND FRANCE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>10. Of all embellishments by which the efforts of man can enhance the
+beauty of natural scenery, those are the most effective which can give
+animation to the scene, while the spirit which they bestow is in unison
+with its general character. It is generally desirable to indicate the
+presence of animated existence in a scene of natural beauty; but only of
+such existence as shall be imbued with the spirit, and shall partake of
+the essence, of the beauty, which, without it, would be dead. If our
+object, therefore, is to embellish a scene the character of which is
+peaceful and unpretending, we must not erect a building fit for the
+abode of wealth or pride. However beautiful or imposing in itself, such
+an object immediately indicates the presence of a kind of existence
+unsuited to the scenery which it inhabits; and of a mind which, when it
+sought retirement, was unacquainted with its own ruling feelings, and
+which consequently excites no sympathy in ours: but, if we erect a
+dwelling which may appear adapted to the wants, and sufficient for the
+comfort, of a gentle heart and lowly mind, we have instantly attained
+our<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> object: we have bestowed animation, but we have not disturbed
+repose.</p>
+
+<p>11. It is for this reason that the cottage is one of the embellishments
+of natural scenery which deserve attentive consideration. It is
+beautiful always, and everywhere. Whether looking out of the woody
+dingle with its eye-like window, and sending up the motion of azure
+smoke between the silver trunks of aged trees; or grouped among the
+bright cornfields of the fruitful plain; or forming gray clusters along
+the slope of the mountain side, the cottage always gives the idea of a
+thing to be beloved: a quiet life-giving voice, that is as peaceful as
+silence itself.</p>
+
+<p>12. With these feelings, we shall devote some time to the consideration
+of the prevailing character, and national peculiarities, of European
+cottages. The principal thing worthy of observation in the lowland
+cottage of England is its finished neatness. The thatch is firmly pegged
+down, and mathematically leveled at the edges; and, though the martin is
+permitted to attach his humble domicile, in undisturbed security, to the
+eaves, he may be considered as enhancing the effect of the cottage, by
+increasing its usefulness, and making it contribute to the comfort of
+more beings than one. The whitewash is stainless, and its rough surface
+catches a side light as brightly as a front one: the luxuriant rose is
+trained gracefully over the window; and the gleaming lattice, divided
+not into heavy squares, but into small pointed diamonds, is thrown half
+open, as is just discovered by its glance among the green leaves of the
+sweetbrier, to admit the breeze, that, as it passes over the flowers,
+becomes full of their fragrance. The light wooden porch breaks the flat
+of the cottage face by its projection; and a branch or two of wandering
+honeysuckle spread over the low hatch. A few square feet of garden and a
+latched wicket, persuading the weary and dusty pedestrian, with
+expressive eloquence, to lean upon it for an instant and request a drink
+of water or milk, complete a picture, which, if it be far enough from
+London to be unspoiled by town sophistications, is a very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> perfect thing
+in its way.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> The ideas it awakens are agreeable, and the architecture
+is all that we want in such a situation. It is pretty and appropriate;
+and if it boasted of any other perfection, it would be at the expense of
+its propriety.</p>
+
+<p>13. Let us now cross the Channel, and endeavor to find a country cottage
+on the other side, if we can; for it is a difficult matter. There are
+many villages; but such a thing as an isolated cottage is extremely
+rare. Let us try one or two of the green valleys among the chalk
+eminences which sweep from Abbeville to Rouen. Here is a cottage at
+last, and a picturesque one, which is more than we could say for the
+English domicile. What then is the difference? There is a general air of
+<i>nonchalance</i> about the French peasant's habitation, which is aided by a
+perfect want of everything like neatness; and rendered more conspicuous
+by some points about the building which have a look of neglected beauty,
+and obliterated ornament. Half of the whitewash is worn off, and the
+other half colored by various mosses and wandering lichens, which have
+been permitted to vegetate upon it, and which, though beautiful,
+constitute a kind of beauty from which the ideas of age and decay are
+inseparable. The tall roof of the garret window stands fantastically
+out; and underneath it, where, in England, we had a plain double
+lattice, is a deep recess, flatly arched at the top, built of solid
+masses of gray stone, fluted on the edge; while the brightness of the
+glass within (if there be any) is lost in shade, causing the recess to
+appear to the observer like a dark eye. The door has the same character:
+it is also of stone, which is so much broken and disguised as to prevent
+it from giving any idea of strength or stability. The entrance is always
+open; no roses, or anything else, are wreathed about it; several
+outhouses, built in the same style, give the building extent; and the
+group (in all probability, the dependency of some large old ch&acirc;teau in
+the distance) does not peep out of copse, or thicket, or a group of tall
+and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> beautiful trees, but stands comfortlessly between two individuals
+of the columns of long-trunked facsimile elms, which keep guard along
+the length of the public road.</p>
+
+<p>14. Now, let it be observed how perfectly, how singularly, the
+distinctive characters of these two cottages agree with those of the
+countries in which they are built; and of the people for whose use they
+are constructed. England is a country whose every scene is in
+miniature.<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> Its green valleys are not wide; its dewy hills are not
+high; its forests are of no extent, or, rather, it has nothing that can
+pretend to a more sounding title than that of "wood." Its champaigns are
+minutely checkered into fields; we can never see far at a time; and
+there is a sense of something inexpressible, except by the truly English
+word "snug," in every quiet nook and sheltered lane. The English
+cottage, therefore, is equally small, equally sheltered, equally
+invisible at a distance.</p>
+
+<p>15. But France is a country on a large scale. Low, but long, hills sweep
+away for miles into vast uninterrupted champaigns; immense forests
+shadow the country for hundreds of square miles, without once letting
+through the light of day; its pastures and arable land are divided on
+the same scale; there are no fences; we can hardly place ourselves in
+any spot where we shall not see for leagues around; and there is a kind
+of comfortless sublimity in the size of every scene. The French cottage,
+therefore, is on the same scale, equally large and desolate looking;
+but we shall see, presently, that it can arouse feelings which, though
+they cannot be said to give it sublimity, yet are of a higher order than
+any which can be awakened at the sight of the English cottage.</p>
+
+<p>16. Again, every bit of cultivated ground in England has a finished
+neatness; the fields are all divided by hedges or fences; the fruit
+trees are neatly pruned; the roads beautifully made, etc. Everything is
+the reverse in France: the fields are distinguished by the nature of the
+crops they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> bear; the fruit trees are overgrown with moss and mistletoe;
+and the roads immeasurably wide, and miserably made.</p>
+
+<p><a name="fig01"></a></p>
+<div class="figright" style="width: 207px;">
+<p><img src="./images/fig01.jpg"
+alt="Fig. 1. Old Windows" title="Fig. 1. Old Windows" /></p>
+<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">Fig</span>. 1. Old Windows: from an early sketch by the Author.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>17. So much for the character of the two cottages, as they assimilate
+with the countries in which they are found. Let us now see how they
+assimilate with the character of the people by whom they are built.
+England is a country of perpetually increasing prosperity and active
+enterprise; but, for that very reason, nothing is allowed to remain till
+it gets old. Large old trees are cut down for timber; old houses are
+pulled down for the materials; and old furniture is laughed at and
+neglected. Everything is perpetually altered and renewed by the activity
+of invention and improvement. The cottage, consequently, has no
+dilapidated look about it; it is never suffered to get old; it is used
+as long as it is comfortable, and then taken down and rebuilt; for it
+was originally raised in a style incapable of resisting the ravages of
+time. But, in France, there prevail two opposite feelings, both in the
+extreme; that of the old pedigreed population, which preserves
+unlimitedly; and that of the modern revolutionists, which destroys
+unmercifully. Every object has partly the appearance of having been
+preserved with infinite care from an indefinite age, and partly exhibits
+the evidence of recent ill-treatment and disfiguration. Primeval forests
+rear their vast trunks over those of many younger generations growing up
+beside them; the ch&acirc;teau or the palace, showing, by its style of
+architecture, its venerable age, bears the marks of the cannon-ball,
+and, from neglect, is withering into desolation. Little is renewed:
+there is little spirit of improvement; and the customs which prevailed
+centuries ago are still taught by the patriarchs of the families to
+their grandchildren. The French cottage, therefore, is just such as we
+should have expected from the disposition of its inhabitants; its
+massive windows, its broken ornaments, its whole air and appearance, all
+tell the same tale of venerable age, respected and preserved, till at
+last its dilapidation wears an appearance of neglect.</p>
+
+<p>18. Again, the Englishman will sacrifice everything to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> comfort, and
+will not only take great pains to secure it, but he has generally also
+the power of doing so: for the English peasant is, on the average,
+wealthier than the French. The French peasant has no idea of comfort,
+and therefore makes no effort to secure it. The difference in the
+character of their inhabitants is, as we have seen, written on the
+fronts of their respective cottages. The Englishman is, also, fond of
+display; but the ornaments, exterior and interior, with which he adorns
+his dwelling, however small it may be, are either to show the extent of
+his possessions, or to contribute to some personal profit or
+gratification: they never seem designed for the sake of ornament alone.
+Thus, his wife's love of display is shown by the rows of useless
+crockery in her cupboard; and his own by the rose tree at the front
+door, from which he may obtain an early bud to stick in the buttonhole
+of his best blue coat on Sundays: the honeysuckle is cultivated for its
+smell, the garden for its cabbages. Not so in France. There, the meanest
+peasant, with an equal or greater love of display, embellishes his
+dwelling as much as lies in his power, solely for the gratification of
+his feeling of what is agreeable to the eye. The gable of his roof is
+prettily shaped; the niche at its corner is richly carved; the wooden
+beams, if there be any, are fashioned into grotesque figures; and even
+the "air n&eacute;glig&eacute;" and general dilapidation of the building tell a
+thousand times more agreeably to an eye accustomed to the picturesque,
+than the spruce preservation of the English cottage.</p>
+
+<p>19. No building which we feel to excite a sentiment of mere complacency
+can be said to be in good taste. On the contrary, when the building is
+of such a class, that it can neither astonish by its beauty, nor impress
+by its sublimity, and when it is likewise placed in a situation so
+uninteresting as to render something more than mere fitness or propriety
+necessary, and to compel the eye to expect something from the building
+itself, a gentle contrast of feeling in that building is exceedingly
+desirable; and if possible, a sense that something has passed away, the
+presence of which would have bestowed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> a deeper interest on the whole
+scene. The fancy will immediately try to recover this, and, in the
+endeavor, will obtain the desired effect from an indefinite cause.</p>
+
+<p>20. Now, the French cottage cannot please by its propriety, for it can
+only be adapted to the ugliness around; and, as it ought to be, and
+cannot but be, adapted to this, it is still less able to please by its
+beauty. How, then, can it please? There is no pretense to gayety in its
+appearance, no green flower-pots in ornamental lattices; but the
+substantial style of any ornaments it may possess, the recessed windows,
+the stone carvings, and the general size of the whole, unite to produce
+an impression of the building having once been fit for the residence of
+prouder inhabitants; of its having once possessed strength, which is now
+withered, and beauty, which is now faded. This sense of something lost,
+something which has been, and is not, is precisely what is wanted. The
+imagination is set actively to work in an instant; and we are made aware
+of the presence of a beauty, the more pleasing because visionary; and,
+while the eye is pitying the actual humility of the present building,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>
+the mind is admiring the imagined pride of the past. Every mark of
+dilapidation increases this feeling; while these very marks (the
+fractures of the stone, the lichens of the moldering walls, and the
+graceful lines of the sinking roof) are all delightful in themselves.</p>
+
+<p>21. Thus, we have shown that, while the English cottage is pretty from
+its propriety, the French cottage, having the same connection with its
+climate, country, and people, produces such a contrast of feeling as
+bestows on it a beauty addressing itself to the mind, and is therefore
+in perfectly good taste. If we are asked why, in this instance, good
+taste produces only what every traveler feels to be not in the least
+striking, we reply that, where the surrounding circumstances are
+unfavorable, the very adaptation to them which we have declared to be
+necessary renders the building uninteresting; and that, in the next
+paper, we shall see a very different result from the operations of
+equally good taste in adapting a cottage to its situation, in one of the
+noblest districts of Europe. Our subject will be, the Lowland Cottage of
+North Italy.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Oxford</span>, <i>Sept., 1837.</i></p>
+
+<div class="footnotes">
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Compare <i>Lectures on Architecture and Painting</i>, I. &sect; 16.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Compare with this chapter, <i>Modern Painters</i>, vol. iv.
+chap. 1.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p>
+<h3>II.</h3>
+
+<h2>THE LOWLAND COTTAGE&mdash;ITALY.</h2>
+
+<h4>"Most musical, most melancholy."</h4>
+
+
+<p>22. Let it not be thought that we are unnecessarily detaining our
+readers from the proposed subject, if we premise a few remarks on the
+character of the landscape of the country we have now entered. It will
+always be necessary to obtain some definite knowledge of the distinctive
+features of a country, before we can form a just estimate of the
+beauties or the errors of its architecture. We wish our readers to imbue
+themselves as far as may be with the spirit of the clime which we are
+now entering; to cast away all general ideas; to look only for unison of
+feeling, and to pronounce everything wrong which is contrary to the
+<i>humors</i> of nature. We must make them feel where they are; we must throw
+a peculiar light and color over their imaginations; then we will bring
+their judgment into play, for then it will be capable of just operation.</p>
+
+<p>23. We have passed, it must be observed (in leaving England and France
+for Italy), from comfort to desolation; from excitement, to sadness: we
+have left one country prosperous in its prime, and another frivolous in
+its age, for one glorious in its death.</p>
+
+<p>Now, we have prefixed the hackneyed line of Il Penseroso to our paper,
+because it is a definition of the essence of the beautiful. What is most
+musical, will always be found most melancholy; and no real beauty can be
+obtained without a touch of sadness. Whenever the beautiful loses its
+melancholy, it degenerates into prettiness. We appeal to the memories of
+all our observing readers, whether they have treasured<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> up any scene,
+pretending to be more than pretty, which has not about it either a tinge
+of melancholy or a sense of danger; the one constitutes the beautiful,
+the other the sublime.</p>
+
+<p>24. This postulate being granted, as we are sure it will by most (and we
+beg to assure those who are refractory or argumentative, that, were this
+a treatise on the sublime and beautiful, we could convince and quell
+their incredulity to their entire satisfaction by innumerable
+instances), we proceed to remark here, once for all, that the principal
+glory of the Italian landscape is its extreme melancholy. It is fitting
+that it should be so: the dead are the nations of Italy; her name and
+her strength are dwelling with the pale nations underneath the earth;
+the chief and chosen boast of her utmost pride is the <i>hic jacet</i>; she
+is but one wide sepulcher, and all her present life is like a shadow or
+a memory. And therefore, or, rather, by a most beautiful coincidence,
+her national tree is the cypress; and whoever has marked the peculiar
+character which these noble shadowy spires can give to her landscape,
+lifting their majestic troops of waving darkness from beside the fallen
+column, or out of the midst of the silence of the shadowed temple and
+worshipless shrine, seen far and wide over the blue of the faint plain,
+without loving the dark trees for their sympathy with the sadness of
+Italy's sweet cemetery shore, is one who profanes her soil with his
+footsteps.</p>
+
+<p>25. Every part of the landscape is in unison; the same glory of mourning
+is thrown over the whole; the deep blue of the heavens is mingled with
+that of the everlasting hills, or melted away into the silence of the
+sapphire sea; the pale cities, temple and tower, lie gleaming along the
+champaign; but how calmly! no hum of men; no motion of multitude in the
+midst of them: they are voiceless as the city of ashes. The transparent
+air is gentle among the blossoms of the orange and the dim leaves of the
+olive; and the small fountains, which, in any other land, would spring
+merrily along, sparkling and singing among tinkling pebbles, here flow
+calmly and silently into some pale font of marble, all beautiful with
+life; worked by some unknown hand, long ago nerveless,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> and fall and
+pass on among wan flowers, and scented copse, through cool leaf-lighted
+caves or gray Egerian grottoes, to join the Tiber or Eridanus, to swell
+the waves of Nemi, or the Larian Lake. The most minute objects (leaf,
+flower, and stone), while they add to the beauty, seem to share in the
+sadness, of the whole.</p>
+
+<p>26. But, if one principal character of Italian landscape is melancholy,
+another is elevation. We have no simple rusticity of scene, no cowslip
+and buttercup humility of seclusion. Tall mulberry trees, with festoons
+of the luxuriant vine, purple with ponderous clusters, trailed and
+trellised between and over them, shade the wide fields of stately Indian
+corn; luxuriance of lofty vegetation (catalpa, and aloe, and olive),
+ranging itself in lines of massy light along the wan champaign, guides
+the eye away to the unfailing wall of mountain, Alp or Apennine; no cold
+long range of shivery gray, but dazzling light of snow, or undulating
+breadth of blue, fainter and darker, in infinite variety; peak,
+precipice, and promontory passing away into the wooded hills, each with
+its tower or white village sloping into the plain; castellated
+battlements cresting their undulations; some wide majestic river gliding
+along the champaign, the bridge on its breast, and the city on its
+shore; the whole canopied with cloudless azure, basking in mistless
+sunshine, breathing the silence of odoriferous air.</p>
+
+<p>27. Now comes the question. In a country of this pomp of natural glory,
+tempered with melancholy memory of departed pride, what are we to wish
+for, what are we naturally to expect in the character of her most humble
+edifices; those which are most connected with present life&mdash;least with
+the past? what are we to consider fitting or beautiful in her cottage?</p>
+
+<p>We do not expect it to be comfortable, when everything around it
+betokens decay and desolation in the works of man. We do not wish it to
+be neat, where nature is most beautiful, because neglected. But we
+naturally look for an elevation of character, a richness of design or
+form, which,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> while the building is kept a cottage, may yet give it a
+peculiar air of cottage aristocracy; a beauty (no matter how
+dilapidated) which may appear to have been once fitted for the
+surrounding splendor of scene and climate. Now, let us fancy an Italian
+cottage before us. The reader who has traveled in Italy will find little
+difficulty in recalling one to his memory, with its broad lines of light
+and shadow, and its strange, but not unpleasing mixture of grandeur and
+desolation. Let us examine its details, enumerate its architectural
+peculiarities, and see how far it agrees with our preconceived idea of
+what the cottage ought to be?</p>
+
+<p>28. The first remarkable point of the building is the roof. It generally
+consists of tiles of very deep curvature, which rib it into distinct
+vertical lines, giving it a far more agreeable surface than that of our
+flatter tiling. The <i>form</i> of the roof, however, is always excessively
+flat, so as never to let it intrude upon the eye; and the consequence
+is, that, while an English village, seen at a distance, appears all red
+roof, the Italian is all white wall; and therefore, though always
+bright, is never gaudy. We have in these roofs an excellent example of
+what should always be kept in mind, that everything will be found
+beautiful, which climate or situation render useful. The strong and
+constant heat of the Italian sun would be intolerable if admitted at the
+windows; and, therefore, the edges of the roof project far over the
+walls, and throw long shadows downwards, so as to keep the upper windows
+constantly cool. These long oblique shadows on the white surface are
+always delightful, and are alone sufficient to give the building
+character. They are peculiar to the buildings of Spain and Italy; for
+owing to the general darker color of those of more northerly climates,
+the shadows of their roofs, however far thrown, do not tell distinctly,
+and render them, not varied, but gloomy. Another ornamental use of these
+shadows is, that they break the line of junction of the wall with the
+roof: a point always desirable, and in every kind of building, whether
+we have to do with lead, slate, tile, or thatch, one of extreme
+difficulty. This object is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> farther forwarded in the Italian cottage, by
+putting two or three windows up under the very eaves themselves, which
+is also done for coolness, so that their tops are formed by the roof;
+and the wall has the appearance of having been terminated by large
+battlements and roofed over. And, finally, the eaves are seldom kept
+long on the same level: double or treble rows of tiling are introduced;
+long sticks and irregular wood-work are occasionally attached to them,
+to assist the festoons of the vine; and the graceful irregularity and
+marked character of the whole must be dwelt on with equal delight by the
+eye of the poet, the artist, or the unprejudiced architect. All,
+however, is exceedingly humble; we have not yet met with the elevation
+of character we expected. We shall find it however as we proceed.</p>
+
+<p>29. The next point of interest is the window. The modern Italian is
+completely owl-like in his habits. All the daytime he lies idle and
+inert; but during the night he is all activity, but it is mere activity
+of inoccupation. Idleness, partly induced by the temperature of the
+climate, and partly consequent on the decaying prosperity of the nation,
+leaves indications of its influence on all his undertakings. He prefers
+patching up a ruin to building a house; he raises shops and hovels, the
+abodes of inactive, vegetating, brutish poverty, under the protection of
+aged and ruined, yet stalwart, arches of the Roman amphitheater; and the
+habitations of the lower orders frequently present traces of ornament
+and stability of material evidently belonging to the remains of a
+prouder edifice. This is the case sometimes to such a degree as, in
+another country, would be disagreeable from its impropriety; but, in
+Italy, it corresponds with the general prominence of the features of a
+past age, and is always beautiful. Thus, the eye rests with delight on
+the broken moldings of the windows, and the sculptured capitals of the
+corner columns, contrasted, as they are, the one with the glassless
+blackness within, the other with the ragged and dirty confusion of
+drapery around. The Italian window, in general, is a mere hole in the
+thick<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> wall, always well proportioned; occasionally arched at the top,
+sometimes with the addition of a little rich ornament: seldom, if ever,
+having any casement or glass, but filled up with any bit of striped or
+colored cloth, which may have the slightest chance of deceiving the
+distant observer into the belief that it is a legitimate blind. This
+keeps off the sun, and allows a free circulation of air, which is the
+great object. When it is absent, the window becomes a mere black hole,
+having much the same relation to a glazed window that the hollow of a
+skull has to a bright eye; not unexpressive, but frowning and ghastly,
+and giving a disagreeable impression of utter emptiness and desolation
+within. Yet there is character in them: the black dots tell agreeably on
+the walls at a distance, and have no disagreeable sparkle to disturb the
+repose of surrounding scenery. Besides, the temperature renders
+everything agreeable to the eye, which gives it an idea of ventilation.
+A few roughly constructed balconies, projecting from detached windows,
+usually break the uniformity of the wall. In some Italian cottages there
+are wooden galleries, resembling those so frequently seen in
+Switzerland; but this is not a very general character, except in the
+mountain valleys of North Italy, although sometimes a passage is
+effected from one projecting portion of a house to another by means of
+an exterior gallery. These are very delightful objects; and when shaded
+by luxuriant vines, which is frequently the case, impart a gracefulness
+to the building otherwise unattainable.</p>
+
+<p>30. The next striking point is the arcade at the base of the building.
+This is general in cities; and, although frequently wanting to the
+cottage, is present often enough to render it an important feature. In
+fact, the Italian cottage is usually found in groups. Isolated buildings
+are rare; and the arcade affords an agreeable, if not necessary, shade,
+in passing from one building to another. It is a still more unfailing
+feature of the Swiss city, where it is useful in deep snow. But the
+supports of the arches in Switzerland are generally square masses of
+wall, varying in size, separating the arches by irregular intervals, and
+sustained by broad and massy buttresses; while in Italy, the arches
+generally rest on legitimate columns, varying in height from one and a
+half to four diameters, with huge capitals, not unfrequently rich in
+detail. These give great gracefulness to the buildings in groups: they
+will be spoken of more at large when we are treating of arrangement and
+situation.</p>
+
+<div class='center'><p><a name="fig02"></a></p>
+<table border="0" id="Cottages" summary="Cottages">
+<tr><td><img src="./images/fig02aa.jpg"
+alt="Italian Cottage Gallery, 1846." title="Italian Cottage Gallery, 1846." /></td>
+<td><img src="./images/fig02b.jpg"
+alt="Chimney at Neuchatel; Dent du Midi and Mont Blanc in the distance." title="Chimney at Neuchatel; Dent du Midi and Mont Blanc in the distance." /></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td><b>Italian Cottage Gallery, 1846.</b></td>
+<td><b>Chimney at Neuchatel; Dent du Midi and Mont Blanc in the distance.</b></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<p><a name="fig02a"></a></p>
+<p class="figcenter"><img src="./images/fig02a.jpg"
+alt="Cottage near la Cit&eacute;, Val d'Aosta, 1838." title="Cottage near la Cit&eacute;, Val d'Aosta, 1838." /></p>
+<p class="figcenter caption">Cottage near la Cit&eacute;, Val d'Aosta, 1838.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>31. The square tower, rising over the roof of the farther cottage, will
+not escape observation. It has been allowed to remain, not because such
+elevated buildings ever belong to mere cottages, but, first, that the
+truth of the scene might not be destroyed;<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> and, secondly, because it
+is impossible, or nearly so, to obtain a group of buildings of any sort,
+in Italy, without one or more such objects rising behind them,
+beautifully contributing to destroy the monotony, and contrast with the
+horizontal lines of the flat roofs and square walls. We think it right,
+therefore, to give the cottage the relief and contrast which, in
+reality, it possessed, even though we are at present speaking of it in
+the abstract.</p>
+
+<p>32. Having now reviewed the distinctive parts of the Italian cottage in
+detail, we shall proceed to direct our attention to points of general
+character. I. Simplicity of form. The roof, being flat, allows of no
+projecting garret windows, no fantastic gable ends: the walls themselves
+are equally flat; no bow-windows or sculptured oriels, such as we meet
+with perpetually in Germany, France, or the Netherlands, vary their
+white fronts. Now, this simplicity is, perhaps, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> principal attribute
+by which the Italian cottage attains the elevation of character we
+desired and expected. All that is fantastic in form, or frivolous in
+detail, annihilates the aristocratic air of a building: it at once
+destroys its sublimity and size, besides awakening, as is almost always
+the case, associations of a mean and low character. The moment we see a
+gable roof, we think of cock-lofts; the instant we observe a projecting
+window, of attics and tent-bedsteads. Now, the Italian cottage assumes,
+with the simplicity, <i>l'air noble</i> of buildings of a higher order; and,
+though it avoids all ridiculous miniature mimicry of the palace, it
+discards the humbler attributes of the cottage. The ornament it assumes
+is dignified; no grinning faces, or unmeaning notched planks, but
+well-proportioned arches, or tastefully sculptured columns. While there
+is nothing about it unsuited to the humility of its inhabitant, there is
+a general dignity in its air, which harmonizes beautifully with the
+nobility of the neighboring edifices, or the glory of the surrounding
+scenery.</p>
+
+<p>33. II. Brightness of effect. There are no weather stains on the walls:
+there is no dampness in air or earth, by which they could be induced;
+the heat of the sun scorches away all lichens, and mosses and moldy
+vegetation. No thatch or stone crop on the roof unites the building with
+surrounding vegetation; all is clear, and warm, and sharp on the eye;
+the more distant the building, the more generally bright it becomes,
+till the distant village sparkles out of the orange copse, or the
+cypress grove, with so much distinctness as might be thought in some
+degree objectionable. But it must be remembered that the prevailing
+color of the Italian landscape is blue; sky, hills, water, are equally
+azure: the olive, which forms a great proportion of the vegetation, is
+not green, but gray; the cypress and its varieties, dark and neutral,
+and the laurel and myrtle far from bright. Now, white, which is
+intolerable with green, is agreeably contrasted with blue; and to this
+cause it must be ascribed that the white of the Italian building is not
+found startling and disagreeable in the landscape. That it is not, we
+believe, will be generally allowed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>34. III. Elegance of feeling. We never can prevent ourselves from
+imagining that we perceive in the graceful negligence of the Italian
+cottage, the evidence of a taste among the lower orders refined by the
+glory of their land, and the beauty of its remains. We have always had
+strong faith in the influence of climate on the mind, and feel strongly
+tempted to discuss the subject at length; but our paper has already
+exceeded its proposed limits, and we must content ourselves with
+remarking what will not, we think, be disputed, that the eye, by
+constantly resting either on natural scenery of noble tone and
+character, or on the architectural remains of classical beauty, must
+contract a habit of feeling correctly and tastefully; the influence of
+which, we think, is seen in the style of edifices the most modern and
+the most humble.</p>
+
+<p>35. Lastly, Dilapidation. We have just used the term "graceful
+negligence": whether it be graceful, or not, is a matter of taste; but
+the uncomfortable and ruinous disorder and dilapidation of the Italian
+cottage is one of observation. The splendor of the climate requires
+nothing more than shade from the sun, and occasionally shelter from a
+violent storm: the outer arcade affords them both; it becomes the
+nightly lounge and daily dormitory of its inhabitant, and the interior
+is abandoned to filth and decay. Indolence watches the tooth of Time
+with careless eye and nerveless hand. Religion, or its abuse, reduces
+every individual of the population to utter inactivity three days out of
+the seven; and the habits formed in the three regulate the four. Abject
+poverty takes away the power, while brutish sloth weakens the will; and
+the filthy habits of the Italian prevent him from suffering from the
+state to which he is reduced. The shattered roofs, the dark, confused,
+ragged windows, the obscure chambers, the tattered and dirty draperies,
+altogether present a picture which, seen too near, is sometimes
+revolting to the eye, always melancholy to the mind. Yet even this many
+would not wish to be otherwise. The prosperity of nations, as of
+individuals, is cold and hard-hearted, and forgetful. The dead die,
+indeed, trampled down by the crowd of the living; the place<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> thereof
+shall know them no more, for that place is not in the hearts of the
+survivors for whose interests they have made way. But adversity and ruin
+point to the sepulcher, and it is not trodden on; to the chronicle, and
+it doth not decay. Who would substitute the rush of a new nation, the
+struggle of an awakening power, for the dreamy sleep of Italy's
+desolation, for her sweet silence of melancholy thought, her twilight
+time of everlasting memories?</p>
+
+<p>36. Such, we think, are the principal distinctive attributes of the
+Italian cottage. Let it not be thought that we are wasting time in the
+contemplation of its beauties; even though they are of a kind which the
+architect can never imitate, because he has no command over time, and no
+choice of situation; and which he ought not to imitate, if he could,
+because they are only locally desirable or admirable. Our object, let it
+always be remembered, is not the attainment of architectural data, but
+the formation of taste.</p>
+
+<p><i>Oct. 12, 1837</i></p>
+
+<div class="footnotes">
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> The annexed illustration will, perhaps, make the remarks
+advanced more intelligible. The building, which is close to the city of
+Aosta, unites in itself all the peculiarities for which the Italian
+cottage is remarkable: the dark arcade, the sculptured capital, the
+vine-covered gallery, the flat and confused roof; and clearly exhibits
+the points to which we wish particularly to direct attention; namely,
+brightness of effect, simplicity of form, and elevation of character.
+Let it not be supposed, however, that such a combination of attributes
+is rare; on the contrary, it is common to the greater part of the
+cottages of Italy. This building has not been selected as a rare
+example, but it is given as a good one. [These remarks refer to a cut in
+the magazine text, represented in the illustrated edition by a
+photogravure from the original sketch.]</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p>
+<h3>III.</h3>
+
+<h2>THE MOUNTAIN COTTAGE&mdash;SWITZERLAND.</h2>
+
+
+<p>37. In the three instances of the lowland cottage which have been
+already considered, are included the chief peculiarities of style which
+are interesting or important. I have not, it is true, spoken of the
+carved oaken gable and shadowy roof of the Norman village; of the black
+crossed rafters and fantastic proportions which delight the eyes of the
+German; nor of the Moorish arches and confused galleries which mingle so
+magnificently with the inimitable fretwork of the gray temples of the
+Spaniard. But these are not peculiarities solely belonging to the
+cottage: they are found in buildings of a higher order, and seldom,
+unless where they are combined with other features. They are therefore
+rather to be considered, in future, as elements of street effect, than,
+now, as the peculiarities of independent buildings. My remarks on the
+Italian cottage might, indeed, be applied, were it not for the constant
+presence of Moorish feeling, to that of Spain. The architecture of the
+two nations is intimately connected: modified, in Italy, by the taste of
+the Roman; and, in Spain, by the fanciful creations of the Moor. When I
+am considering the fortress and the palace,<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> I shall be compelled to
+devote a very large share of my attention to Spain; but for
+characteristic examples of the cottage, I turn rather to Switzerland and
+England. Preparatory, therefore, to a few general remarks on modern
+ornamental cottages, it will be instructive to observe the peculiarities
+of two varieties of the mountain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> cottage, diametrically opposite to
+each other in most of their features; one always beautiful, and the
+other frequently so.</p>
+
+<p>38. First, for Helvetia. Well do I remember the thrilling and exquisite
+moment when first, first in my life (which had not been over long), I
+encountered, in a calm and shadowy dingle, darkened with the thick
+spreading of tall pines, and voiceful with the singing of a
+rock-encumbered stream, and passing up towards the flank of a smooth
+green mountain, whose swarded summit shone in the summer snow like an
+emerald set in silver; when, I say, I first encountered in this calm
+defile of the Jura, the unobtrusive, yet beautiful, front of the Swiss
+cottage. I thought it the loveliest piece of architecture I had ever had
+the felicity of contemplating; yet it was nothing in itself, nothing but
+a few mossy fir trunks, loosely nailed together, with one or two gray
+stones on the roof: but its power was the power of association; its
+beauty, that of fitness and humility.</p>
+
+<p>39. How different is this from what modern architects erect, when they
+attempt to produce what is, by courtesy, called a Swiss cottage. The
+modern building known in Britain by that name has very long chimneys,
+covered with various exceedingly ingenious devices for the convenient
+reception and hospitable entertainment of soot, supposed by the innocent
+and deluded proprietor to be "meant for ornament." Its gable roof slopes
+at an acute angle, and terminates in an interesting and romantic manner,
+at each extremity, in a tooth-pick. Its walls are very precisely and
+prettily plastered; and it is rendered quite complete by the addition of
+two neat little bow windows, supported on neat little mahogany brackets,
+full of neat little squares of red and yellow glass. Its door is
+approached under a neat little veranda, "uncommon green," and is flanked
+on each side by a neat little round table, with all its legs of
+different lengths, and by a variety of neat little wooden chairs, all
+very peculiarly uncomfortable, and amazingly full of earwigs: the whole
+being surrounded by a garden full of flints, burnt bricks and cinders,
+with some water in the middle, and a fountain in the middle of it,
+which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> won't play; accompanied by some goldfish, which won't swim; and
+by two or three ducks, which will splash. Now, I am excessively sorry to
+inform the members of any respectable English family, who are making
+themselves uncomfortable in one of these ingenious conceptions, under
+the idea that they are living in a Swiss cottage, that they labor under
+a melancholy deception; and shall now proceed to investigate the
+peculiarities of the real building.</p>
+
+<p>40. The life of a Swiss peasant is divided into two periods; that in
+which he is watching his cattle at their summer pasture on the high
+Alps,<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> and that in which he seeks shelter from the violence of the
+winter storms in the most retired parts of the low valleys. During the
+first period, he requires only occasional shelter from storms of
+excessive violence; during the latter, a sufficient protection from
+continued inclement weather. The Alpine or summer cottage, therefore, is
+a rude log hut, formed of unsquared pine trunks, notched into each other
+at the corners. The roof being excessively flat, so as to offer no
+surface to the wind, is covered with fragments of any stone that will
+split easily, held on by crossing logs; which are in their turn kept
+down by masses of stone; the whole being generally sheltered behind some
+protecting rock, or resting against the slope of the mountain, so that,
+from one side, you may step upon the roof. That is the <i>ch&acirc;let</i>. When
+well grouped, running along a slope of mountain side, these huts produce
+a very pleasing effect, being never obtrusive (owing to the prevailing
+grayness of their tone), uniting well with surrounding objects, and
+bestowing at once animation and character.</p>
+
+<p>41. But the winter residence, the Swiss cottage, properly so-called is a
+much more elaborate piece of workmanship. The principal requisite is, of
+course, strength: and this is always observable in the large size of the
+timbers, and the ingenious manner in which they are joined, so as to
+support and relieve each other, when any of them are severely tried.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>
+The roof is always very flat, generally meeting at an angle of 155&deg;, and
+projecting from 5 ft. to 7 ft. over the cottage side, in order to
+prevent the windows from being thoroughly clogged up with snow. That
+this projection may not be crushed down by the enormous weight of snow
+which it must sometimes sustain, it is assisted by strong wooden
+supports (seen in Fig. 3), which sometimes extend half down the walls
+for the sake of strength, divide the side into regular compartments, and
+are rendered ornamental by grotesque<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> carving. Every canton has its own
+window. That of Uri, with its diamond wood-work at the bottom, is,
+perhaps, one of the richest. (See Fig. 4.) The galleries are generally
+rendered ornamental by a great deal of labor bestowed upon their
+wood-work. This is best executed in the canton of Berne. The door is
+always six or seven feet from the ground, and occasionally much more,
+that it may be accessible in snow; and is reached by an oblique gallery,
+leading up to a horizontal one, as shown in Figs. 3 and 4. The base of
+the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> cottage is formed of stone, generally whitewashed. The chimneys
+must have a chapter to themselves; they are splendid examples of utility
+combined with ornament.</p>
+
+<p><a name="fig03"></a></p>
+<p class="figcenter"><img src="./images/fig03.jpg"
+alt="Fig. 3. Swiss Cottage. 1837." title="Fig. 3. Swiss Cottage. 1837." /></p>
+<p class="figcenter caption"><span class="smcap">Fig</span>. 3. Swiss Cottage. 1837.</p>
+
+<p><a name="fig04"></a></p>
+<p class="figcenter"><img src="./images/fig04.jpg"
+alt="Fig. 4. Cottage near Altorf. 1835." title="Fig. 4. Cottage near Altorf. 1835." /></p>
+<p class="figcenter caption"><span class="smcap">Fig</span>. 4. Cottage near Altorf. 1835.</p>
+
+
+<p>Such are the chief characteristics of the Swiss cottage, separately
+considered. I must now take notice of its effect in scenery.</p>
+
+<p>42. When one has been wandering for a whole morning through a valley of
+perfect silence, where everything around, which is motionless, is
+colossal, and everything which has motion, resistless; where the
+strength and the glory of nature are principally developed in the very
+forces which feed upon her majesty; and where, in the midst of
+mightiness which seems imperishable, all that is indeed eternal is the
+influence of desolation; one is apt to be surprised, and by no means
+agreeably, to find, crouched behind some projecting rock, a piece of
+architecture which is neat in the extreme, though in the midst of
+wildness, weak in the midst of strength, contemptible in the midst of
+immensity. There is something offensive in its neatness: for the wood is
+almost always perfectly clean, and looks as if it had just been cut; it
+is consequently raw in its color, and destitute of all variety of tone.
+This is especially disagreeable, when the eye has been previously
+accustomed to, and finds, everywhere around, the exquisite mingling of
+color, and confused, though perpetually graceful, forms, by which the
+details of mountain scenery are peculiarly distinguished. Every fragment
+of rock is finished in its effect, tinted with thousands of pale lichens
+and fresh mosses; every pine tree is warm with the life of various
+vegetation; every grassy bank glowing with mellowed color, and waving
+with delicate leafage. How, then, can the contrast be otherwise than
+painful, between this perfect loveliness, and the dead, raw, lifeless
+surface of the deal boards of the cottage. Its weakness is pitiable;
+for, though there is always evidence of considerable strength on close
+examination, there is no <i>effect</i> of strength: the real thickness of the
+logs is concealed by the cutting and carving of their exposed surfaces;
+and even what is seen is felt to be so utterly contemptible,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> when
+opposed to the destructive forces which are in operation around, that
+the feelings are irritated at the imagined audacity of the inanimate
+object, with the self-conceit of its impotence; and, finally, the eye is
+offended at its want of size. It does not, as might be at first
+supposed, enhance the sublimity of surrounding scenery by its
+littleness, for it provokes no comparison; and there must be proportion
+between objects, or they cannot be compared. If the Parthenon, or the
+Pyramid of Cheops, or St. Peter's, were placed in the same situation,
+the mind would first form a just estimate of the magnificence of the
+building, and then be trebly impressed with the size of the masses which
+overwhelmed it. The architecture would not lose, and the crags would
+gain, by the juxtaposition; but the cottage, which must be felt to be a
+thing which the weakest stream of the Alps could toss down before it
+like a foam-globe, is offensively contemptible: it is like a child's toy
+let fall accidentally on the hillside; it does not unite with the scene;
+it is not content to sink into a quiet corner, and personify humility
+and peace; but it draws attention upon itself by its pretension to
+decoration, while its decorations themselves cannot bear examination,
+because they are useless, unmeaning and incongruous.</p>
+
+<p><a name="fig05"></a></p>
+<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;">
+<p><img src="./images/fig05.jpg"
+alt="Swiss Ch&acirc;let Balcony, 1842." title="Swiss Ch&acirc;let Balcony, 1842." /></p>
+<p class="caption">Swiss Ch&acirc;let Balcony, 1842.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>43. So much for its faults; and I have had no mercy upon them, the
+rather, because I am always afraid of being biased in its favor by my
+excessive love for its sweet nationality. Now for its beauties. Wherever
+it is found, it always suggests ideas of a gentle, pure, and pastoral
+life.<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> One feels that the peasants whose hands carved the planks so
+neatly, and adorned their cottage so industriously, and still preserve
+it so perfectly, and so neatly, can be no dull, drunken, lazy boors; one
+feels, also, that it requires both firm resolution, and determined
+industry, to maintain so successful a struggle against "the crush of
+thunder, and the warring winds." Sweet ideas float over the imagination
+of such passages of peasant life as the gentle Walton so loved; of the
+full milk-pail, and the mantling cream-bowl; of the evening dance and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>
+the matin song; of the herdsmen on the Alps, of the maidens by the
+fountain; of all that is peculiarly and indisputably Swiss. For the
+cottage is beautifully national; there is nothing to be found the least
+like it in any other country. The moment a glimpse is caught of its
+projecting galleries, one knows that it is the land of Tell and
+Winkelried; and the traveler feels, that, were he indeed Swiss-born and
+Alp-bred, a bit of that carved plank, meeting his eye in a foreign land,
+would be as effectual as a note of the <i>Ranz des Vaches</i> upon the ear.</p>
+
+<p>44. Again, when a number of these cottages are grouped together, they
+break upon each other's formality, and form a mass of fantastic
+proportion, of carved window and overhanging roof, full of character and
+picturesque in the extreme. An excellent example of this is the Bernese
+village of Unterseen. Again, when the ornament is not very elaborate,
+yet enough to preserve the character, and the cottage is old, and not
+very well kept (suppose in a Catholic canton), and a little rotten, the
+effect is beautiful: the timber becomes weather-stained, and of a fine
+warm brown, harmonizing delightfully with the gray stones on the roof,
+and the dark green of surrounding pines. If it be fortunate enough to be
+situated in some quiet glen, out of sight of the gigantic features of
+the scene, and surrounded with cliffs to which it bears some proportion;
+and if it be partially concealed, not intruding on the eye, but well
+united with everything around, it becomes altogether perfect; humble,
+beautiful, and interesting. Perhaps no cottage can then be found to
+equal it; and none can be more finished in effect, graceful in detail,
+and characteristic as a whole.</p>
+
+<p>45. The ornaments employed in the decoration of the Swiss cottage do not
+demand much attention; they are usually formed in a most simple manner,
+by thin laths, which are carved into any fanciful form, or in which rows
+of holes are cut, generally diamond shaped; and they are then nailed one
+above another to give the carving depth. Pinnacles are never raised on
+the roof, though carved spikes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> are occasionally suspended from it at
+the angles. No ornamental work is ever employed to disguise the beams of
+the projecting part of the roof, nor does any run along its edges. The
+galleries, in the canton of Uri, are occasionally supported on arched
+beams, as shown in Fig. 4, which have a very pleasing effect.</p>
+
+<p>46. Of the adaptation of the building to climate and character, little
+can be said. When I called it "national," I meant only that it was quite
+<i>sui generis</i>, and, therefore, being only found in Switzerland, might be
+considered as a national building; though it has none of the mysterious
+connection with the mind of its inhabitants which is evident in all
+really fine edifices. But there is a reason for this; Switzerland has no
+climate, properly speaking, but an assemblage of every climate, from
+Italy to the Pole; the vine wild in its valleys, the ice eternal on its
+crags. The Swiss themselves are what we might have expected in persons
+dwelling in such a climate; they have no character. The sluggish nature
+of the air of the valleys has a malignant operation on the mind; and
+even the mountaineers, though generally shrewd and intellectual, have no
+perceptible nationality: they have no language, except a mixture of
+Italian and bad German; they have no peculiar turn of mind; they might
+be taken as easily for Germans as for Swiss. No correspondence,
+consequently, can exist between national architecture and national
+character, where the latter is not distinguishable. Generally speaking,
+then, the Swiss cottage cannot be said to be built in good taste; but it
+is occasionally picturesque, frequently pleasing, and, under a favorable
+concurrence of circumstances, beautiful. It is not, however, a thing to
+be imitated; it is always, when out of its own country, incongruous; it
+never harmonizes with anything around it, and can therefore be employed
+only in mimicry of what does not exist, not in improvement of what does.
+I mean, that any one who has on his estate a dingle shaded with larches
+or pines, with a rapid stream, may manufacture a bit of Switzerland as a
+toy; but such imitations are always<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> contemptible, and he cannot use the
+Swiss cottage in any other way. A modified form of it, however, as will
+be hereafter shown, may be employed with advantage. I hope, in my next
+paper, to derive more satisfaction from the contemplation of the
+mountain cottage of Westmoreland, than I have been able to obtain from
+that of the Swiss.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes">
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> That part, however, was not written, as the "Architectural
+Magazine" stopped running soon after the conclusion of Part II. "The
+Villa."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> I use the word Alp here, and in future, in its proper
+sense, of a high mountain pasture; not in its secondary sense, of a
+snowy peak.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> Compare <i>Modern Painters</i>, vol. iv. chap. xi, and vol. v.
+chap. ix.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p>
+<h3>IV.</h3>
+
+<h2>THE MOUNTAIN COTTAGE&mdash;WESTMORELAND.</h2>
+
+
+<p>47. When I devoted so much time to the consideration of the
+peculiarities of the Swiss cottage, I did not previously endeavor to
+ascertain what the mind, influenced by the feelings excited by the
+nature of its situation, would be induced to expect, or disposed to
+admire. I thus deviated from the general rule which I hope to be able to
+follow out; but I did so only because the subject for consideration was
+incapable of fulfilling the expectation when excited, or corresponding
+with the conception when formed. But now, in order to appreciate the
+beauty of the Westmoreland cottage, it will be necessary to fix upon a
+standard of excellence, with which it may be compared.</p>
+
+<p>One of the principal charms of mountain scenery is its solitude. Now,
+just as silence is never perfect or deep without motion, solitude is
+never perfect without some vestige of life. Even desolation is not felt
+to be utter, unless in some slight degree interrupted: unless the
+cricket is chirping on the lonely hearth, or the vulture soaring over
+the field of corpses, or the one mourner lamenting over the red ruins of
+the devastated village, that devastation is not felt to be complete. The
+anathema of the prophet does not wholly leave the curse of loneliness
+upon the mighty city, until he tells us that "the satyr shall dance
+there." And, if desolation, which is the destruction of life, cannot
+leave its impression perfect without some interruption, much less can
+solitude, which is only the absence of life, be felt without some
+contrast. Accordingly, it is, perhaps, never so perfect as when a
+populous and highly cultivated plain,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> immediately beneath, is visible
+through the rugged ravines, or over the cloudy summits of some tall,
+vast, and voiceless mountain.</p>
+
+<p>48. When such a prospect is not attainable, one of the chief uses of the
+mountain cottage, paradoxical as the idea may appear, is to increase
+this sense of solitude. Now, as it will only do so when it is seen at a
+considerable distance, it is necessary that it should be visible, or, at
+least, that its presence should be indicated, over a considerable
+portion of surrounding space. It must not, therefore, be too much shaded
+by trees, or it will be useless; but if, on the contrary, it be too
+conspicuous on the open hillside, it will be liable to most of the
+objections which were advanced against the Swiss cottage, and to
+another, which was not then noticed. Anything which, to the eye, is
+split into parts, appears less as a whole than what is undivided. Now, a
+considerable mass, of whatever tone or color it may consist, is as
+easily divisible by dots as by lines; that is, a conspicuous point, on
+any part of its surface, will divide it into two portions, each of which
+will be individually measured by the eye, but which will never make the
+impression which they would have made, had their unity not been
+interrupted. A conspicuous cottage on a distant mountain side has this
+effect in a fatal degree, and is, therefore, always intolerable.</p>
+
+<p>49. It should accordingly, in order to reconcile the attainment of the
+good, with the avoidance of the evil, be barely visible: it should not
+tell as a cottage on the eye, though it should on the mind; for be it
+observed that, if it is only by the closest investigation that we can
+ascertain it to be a human habitation, it will answer the purpose of
+increasing the solitude quite as well as if it were evidently so;
+because this impression is produced by its appeal to the thoughts, not
+by its effect on the eye. Its color, therefore, should be as nearly as
+possible that of the hill on which, or the crag beneath which, it is
+placed; its form, one that will incorporate well with the ground, and
+approach that of a large stone more than of anything else. The color
+will conse<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span>quently, if this rule be followed, be subdued and grayish,
+but rather warm; and the form simple, graceful, and unpretending. The
+building should retain the same general character on a closer
+examination. Everything about it should be natural, and should appear as
+if the influences and forces which were in operation around it had been
+too strong to be resisted, and had rendered all efforts of art to check
+their power, or conceal the evidence of their action, entirely
+unavailing. It cannot but be an alien child of the mountains; but it
+must show that it has been adopted and cherished by them. This effect is
+only attainable by great ease of outline and variety of color;
+peculiarities which, as will be presently seen, the Westmoreland cottage
+possesses in a supereminent degree.</p>
+
+<p>50. Another feeling, with which one is impressed during a mountain
+ramble, is humility. I found fault with the insignificance of the Swiss
+cottage, because "it was not content to sink into a quiet corner, and
+personify humility." Now, had it not been seen to be pretending, it
+would not have been felt to be insignificant; for the feelings would
+have been gratified with its submission to, and retirement from, the
+majesty of the destructive influences which it rather seemed to rise up
+against in mockery. Such pretension is especially to be avoided in the
+mountain cottage: it can never lie too humbly in the pastures of the
+valley, nor shrink too submissively into the hollows of the hills; it
+should seem to be asking the storm for mercy, and the mountain for
+protection: and should appear to owe to its weakness, rather than to its
+strength, that it is neither overwhelmed by the one, nor crushed by the
+other.</p>
+
+<p>51. Such are the chief attributes, without which a mountain cottage
+cannot be said to be beautiful. It may possess others, which are
+desirable or objectionable, according to their situation, or other
+accidental circumstances. The nature of these will be best understood by
+examining an individual building. The material is, of course, what is
+most easily attainable and available without much labor. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> Cumberland
+and Westmoreland hills are, in general, composed of clay-slate and
+gray-wacke, with occasional masses of chert<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> (like that which forms
+the summit of Scawfell), porphyritic greenstone, and syenite. The chert
+decomposes deeply, and assumes a rough brown granular surface, deeply
+worn and furrowed. The clay-slate or gray-wacke, as it is shattered by
+frost, and carried down by torrents, of course forms itself into
+irregular flattish masses. The splintery edges of these are in some
+degree worn off by the action of water; and, slight decomposition taking
+place on the surface of the clay-slate, furnishes an aluminous soil,
+which is immediately taken advantage of by innumerable lichens, which
+change the dark gray of the original substance into an infinite variety
+of pale and warm colors. These stones, thus shaped to his hand, are the
+most convenient building materials the peasant can obtain.<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> He lays
+his foundation and strengthens his angles with large masses, filling up
+the intervals with pieces of a more moderate size; and using here and
+there a little cement to bind the whole together, and to keep the wind
+from getting through the interstices; but never enough to fill them
+altogether up, or to render the face of the wall smooth. At intervals of
+from 4 ft. to 6 ft. a horizontal line of flat and broad fragments is
+introduced projecting about a foot from the wall. Whether this is
+supposed to give strength, I know not; but as it is invariably covered
+by luxuriant stonecrop, it is always a delightful object.</p>
+
+<p>52. The door is flanked and roofed by three large oblong sheets of gray
+rock, whose form seems not to be considered of the slightest
+consequence. Those which form the cheeks of the windows are generally
+selected with more care from the d&eacute;bris of some rock, which is naturally
+smooth and polished, after being subjected to the weather, such as
+granite or syenite. The window itself is narrow and deep set; in the
+better sort of cottages, latticed, but with no affecta<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>tion of
+sweetbrier or eglantine about it. It may be observed of the whole of the
+cottage, that, though all is beautiful, nothing is pretty. The roof is
+rather flat, and covered with heavy fragments of the stone of which the
+walls are built, originally very loose; but generally cemented by
+accumulated soil, and bound together by houseleek, moss, and stonecrop:
+brilliant in color, and singular in abundance. The form of the larger
+cottages, being frequently that of a cross, would hurt the eye by the
+sharp angles of the roof, were it not for the cushion-like vegetation
+with which they are rounded and concealed. Varieties of the fern
+sometimes relieve the massy forms of the stonecrop, with their light and
+delicate leafage. Windows in the roof are seldom met with. Of the
+chimney I shall speak hereafter.</p>
+
+<p>53. Such are the prevailing peculiarities of the Westmoreland cottage.
+"Is this all?" some one will exclaim: "a hovel, built of what first
+comes to hand, and in the most simple and convenient form; not one
+thought of architectural beauty ever coming into the builder's head!"
+Even so; to this illustration of an excellent rule, I wished
+particularly to direct attention: that the material which Nature
+furnishes, in any given country, and the form which she suggests, will
+always render the building the most beautiful, because the most
+appropriate. Observe how perfectly this cottage fulfills the conditions
+which were before ascertained to be necessary to perfection. Its color
+is that of the ground on which it stands, always subdued and gray, but
+exquisitely rich, the color being disposed crumblingly, in groups of
+shadowy spots; a deep red brown, passing into black, being finely
+contrasted with the pale yellow of the <i>Lichen geographicus</i>, and the
+subdued white of another lichen, whose name I do not know; all mingling
+with each other as on a native rock, and with the same beautiful effect:
+the mass, consequently, at a distance, tells only as a large stone
+would, the simplicity of its form contributing still farther to render
+it inconspicuous. When placed on a mountain-side such a cottage will
+become a point of interest, which will relieve its monotony, but will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>
+never cut the hill in two, or take away from its size. In the valley,
+the color of these cottages agrees with everything: the green light,
+which trembles through the leafage of the taller trees, falls with
+exquisite effect on the rich gray of the ancient roofs: the deep pool of
+clear water is not startled from its peace by their reflection; the ivy,
+or the creepers to which the superior wealth of the peasant of the
+valley does now and then pretend, in opposition to the general custom,
+cling gracefully and easily to its innumerable crevices; and rock, lake,
+and meadow seem to hail it with a brotherly affection, as if Nature had
+taken as much pains with it as she has with them.</p>
+
+<p>54. Again, observe its ease of outline. There is not a single straight
+line to be met with from foundation to roof; all is bending or broken.
+The form of every stone in its walls is a study; for, owing to the
+infinite delicacy of structure in all minerals, a piece of stone 3 in.
+in diameter, irregularly fractured, and a little worn by the weather,
+has precisely the same character of outline which we should find and
+admire in a mountain of the same material 6000 ft. high;<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> and,
+therefore, the eye, though not feeling the cause, rests on every cranny,
+and crack, and fissure with delight. It is true that we have no idea
+that every small projection, if of chert, has such an outline as
+Scawfell's; if of gray-wacke, as Skiddaw's; or if of slate, as
+Helvellyn's; but their combinations of form are, nevertheless, felt to
+be exquisite, and we dwell upon every bend of the rough roof and every
+hollow of the loose wall, feeling it to be a design which no architect
+on earth could ever equal, sculptured by a chisel of unimaginable
+delicacy, and finished to a degree of perfection, which is unnoticed
+only because it is everywhere.</p>
+
+<p>55. This ease and irregularity is peculiarly delightful where
+gracefulness and freedom of outline and detail are, as they always are
+in mountain countries, the chief characteristics of every scene. It is
+well that, where every plant is wild and every torrent free, every field
+irregular in its form, every knoll various in its outline, one is not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>
+startled by well built walls, or unyielding roofs, but is permitted to
+trace in the stones of the peasant's dwelling, as in the crags of the
+mountain side, no evidence of the line or the mallet, but the operation
+of eternal influences, the presence of an Almighty hand. Another
+perfection connected with its ease of outline is, its severity of
+character: there is no foppery about it; not the slightest effort at any
+kind of ornament, but what nature chooses to bestow; it wears all its
+decorations wildly, covering its nakedness, not with what the peasant
+may plant, but with what the winds may bring. There is no gay color or
+neatness about it; no green shutters or other abomination: all is calm
+and quiet, and severe, as the mind of a philosopher, and, withal, a
+little somber. It is evidently old, and has stood many trials in its
+day; and the snow, and the tempest, and the torrent have all spared it,
+and left it in its peace, with its gray head unbowed, and its early
+strength unbroken, even though the spirit of decay seems creeping, like
+the moss and the lichen, through the darkness of its crannies. This
+venerable and slightly melancholy character is the very soul of all its
+beauty.</p>
+
+<p>56. There remains only one point to be noticed, its humility. This was
+before stated to be desirable, and it will here be found in perfection.
+The building draws as little attention upon itself as possible; since,
+with all the praise I have bestowed upon it, it possesses not one point
+of beauty in which it is not equaled or excelled by every stone at the
+side of the road. It is small in size, simple in form, subdued in tone,
+easily concealed or overshadowed; often actually so; and one is always
+delighted and surprised to find that what courts attention so little is
+capable of sustaining it so well. Yet it has no appearance of weakness:
+it is stoutly, though rudely, built; and one ceases to fear for its sake
+the violence of surrounding agencies, which, it may be seen, will be
+partly deprecated by its humility.</p>
+
+<p>57. Such is the mountain cottage of Westmoreland; and such, with
+occasional varieties, are many of the mountain cottages of England and
+Wales. It is true that my memory<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> rests with peculiar pleasure in a
+certain quiet valley near Kirkstone, little known to the general
+tourist, distant from any public track, and, therefore, free from all
+the horrors of improvement:<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> in which it seemed to me that the
+architecture of the cottage had attained a peculiar degree of
+perfection. But I think that this impression was rather produced by a
+few seemingly insignificant accompanying circumstances, than by any
+distinguished beauty of design in the cottages themselves. Their
+inhabitants were evidently poor, and apparently had not repaired their
+dwellings since their first erection; and, certainly, had never torn one
+tuft of moss or fern from roofs or walls, which were green with the rich
+vegetation of years. The valley was narrow, and quiet, and deep, and
+shaded by reverend trees, among whose trunks the gray cottages looked
+out, with a perfection of effect which I never remember to have seen
+equaled, though I believe that, in many of the mountain districts of
+Britain, the peasant's domicile is erected with equal good taste.</p>
+
+<p>58. I have always rejoiced in the thought, that our native highland
+scenery, though, perhaps, wanting in sublimity, is distinguished by a
+delicate finish in its details, and by a unanimity and propriety of
+feeling in the works of its inhabitants, which are elsewhere looked for
+in vain; and the reason of this is evident. The mind of the inhabitant
+of the continent, in general, is capable of deeper and finer sensations
+than that of the islander. It is higher in its aspirations, purer in its
+passions, wilder in its dreams, and fiercer in its anger; but it is
+wanting in gentleness, and in its simplicity; naturally desirous of
+excitement, and incapable of experiencing, in equal degree, the calmer
+flow of human felicity, the stillness of domestic peace, and the
+pleasures of the humble hearth, consisting in everyday duties performed,
+and everyday mercies received; consequently, in the higher walks of
+architecture, where the mind is to be impressed or elevated, we never
+have equaled, and we never shall equal, them. It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> will be seen
+hereafter, when we leave the lowly valley for the torn ravine, and the
+grassy knoll for the ribbed precipice, that, if the continental
+architects cannot adorn the pasture with the humble roof, they can crest
+the crag with eternal battlements;<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> if they cannot minister to a
+landscape's peace, they can add to its terror; and it has been already
+seen, that, in the lowland cottages of France and Italy, where high and
+refined feelings were to be induced, where melancholy was to be excited,
+or majesty bestowed, the architect was successful, and his labor was
+perfect: but, now, nothing is required but humility and gentleness; and
+this, which he does not feel, he cannot give: it is contrary to the
+whole force of his character, nay, even to the spirit of his religion.
+It is unfelt even at the time when the soul is most chastened and
+subdued; for the epitaph on the grave is affected in its sentiment, and
+the tombstone gaudily gilded, or wreathed with vain flowers.</p>
+
+<p><a name="fig06"></a></p>
+<p class="figcenter"><img src="./images/fig06.jpg"
+alt="Fig. 6. The Highest House in England." title="Fig. 6. The Highest House in England." /></p>
+<p class="figcenter caption"><span class="smcap">Fig</span>. 6. The Highest House in England.</p>
+
+<p>59. We cannot, then, be surprised at the effort at ornament and other
+fancied architectural beauties, which injure the effect of the more
+peaceful mountain scenery abroad; but still less should we be surprised
+at the perfect propriety which prevails in the same kind of scenery at
+home; for the error which is there induced by one mental deficiency, is
+here prevented by another. The uncultivated mountaineer of Cumberland
+has no taste, and no idea of what architecture means; he never thinks of
+what is right, or what is beautiful, but he builds what is most adapted
+to his purposes, and most easily erected: by suiting the building to the
+uses of his own life, he gives it humility; and, by raising it with the
+nearest material, adapts it to its situation. This is all that is
+required, and he has no credit in fulfilling the requirement, since the
+moment he begins to think of effect, he commits a barbarism by
+whitewashing the whole. The cottages of Cumberland would suffer much by
+this piece of improvement, were it not for the salutary operation of
+mountain rains and mountain winds.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>60. So much for the hill dwellings of our own country. I think the
+examination of the five examples of the cottage which I have given have
+furnished all the general principles which are important or worthy of
+consideration; and I shall therefore devote no more time to the
+contemplation of individual buildings. But, before I leave the cottage
+altogether, it will be necessary to notice a part of the building which
+I have in the separate instances purposely avoided mentioning, that I
+might have the advantage of immediate comparison; a part exceedingly
+important, and which seems to have been essential to the palace as well
+as to the cottage, ever since the time when Perdiccas received his
+significant gift of the sun from his Macedonian master, <span class="greek" title="perigrapsas ton h&ecirc;lion, hos &ecirc;n kata t&ecirc;n kapnodok&ecirc;n es ton oikon esech&ocirc;n">&#960;&#949;&#961;&#953;&#947;&#961;&#945;&#968;&#945;&#962;
+&#964;&#959;&#957; &#7969;&#955;&#953;&#959;&#957;, &#8001;&#962; &#951;&#957; &#954;&#945;&#964;&#945; &#964;&#951;&#957; &#954;&#945;&#960;&#957;&#959;&#948;&#959;&#954;&#951;&#957; &#949;&#962; &#964;&#959;&#957; &#959;&#953;&#954;&#959;&#957; &#949;&#963;&#949;&#967;&#969;&#957;.
+</span><a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> And then I shall conclude the subject by a few general
+remarks on modern ornamental cottages, illustrative of the principle so
+admirably developed in the beauty of the Westmoreland building; to
+which, it must be remembered, the palm was assigned, in preference to
+the Switzer's; not because it was more labored, but because it was more
+natural.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Oxford</span>, <i>Jan., 1838.</i></p>
+
+<div class="footnotes">
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> That is to say, a <i>flinty</i> volcanic ash.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> Compare the treatment of a similar theme in <i>Modern
+Painters</i>, vol. iv., chaps. viii.-x.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> Compare <i>Modern Painters</i>, vol. iv. chap. 18, &sect; 7.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> Troutbeck, sixty years since?</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> This too refers to the unwritten sequel.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> Herodotus viii, 137, freely quoted from memory. The story
+was that three brothers took service with a kinglet in Macedonia. The
+queen, who cooked their food herself, for it was in the good old times,
+noticed that the portion of Perdiccas, the youngest, always "rose" three
+times as large as any other. The king judged this to be an omen of the
+lad's coming to fortune; and dismissed them. They demanded their wages.
+"When the king heard talk about wages&mdash;you must know <i>the sun was
+shining into the house, down the chimney</i>&mdash;he said (for God had hardened
+his heart) 'There's your wage; all you deserve and all you'll get:' and
+pointed to the sunshine. The elder brothers were dumfoundered when they
+heard that; but the lad, who happened to have his knife with him, said,
+'We accept, King, the gift.' With his knife he <i>made a scratch around
+the sunstreak</i> on the floor, took the shine of it three times into the
+fold of his kirtle"&mdash;his pocket, we should say nowadays&mdash;"and went his
+way." Eventually he became king of Macedonia, and ancestor of Alexander
+the Great.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p>
+<h3>V.</h3>
+
+<h2>A CHAPTER ON CHIMNEYS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>61. It appears from the passage in Herodotus, which we alluded to in the
+last paper, that there has been a time, even in the most civilized
+countries, when the king's palace was entirely unfurnished with anything
+having the slightest pretension to the dignity of chimney tops; and the
+savory vapors which were wont to rise from the hospitable hearth, at
+which the queen or princess prepared the feast with the whitest of
+hands, escaped with indecorous facility through a simple hole in the
+flat roof. The dignity of smoke, however, is now better understood, and
+it is dismissed through Gothic pinnacles, and (as at Burleigh House)
+through Tuscan columns, with a most praiseworthy regard to its comfort
+and convenience. Let us consider if it is worth the trouble.</p>
+
+<p>62. We advanced a position in the last paper, that silence is never
+perfect without motion. That is, unless something which might possibly
+produce sound is evident to the eye, the absence of sound is not
+surprising to the ear, and, therefore, not impressive. Let it be
+observed, for instance, how much the stillness of a summer's evening is
+enhanced by the perception of the gliding and majestic motion of some
+calm river, strong but still; or of the high and purple clouds; or of
+the voiceless leaves, among the opening branches. To produce this
+impression, however, the motion must be uniform, though not necessarily
+slow. One of the chief peculiarities of the ocean thoroughfares of
+Venice, is the remarkable silence which rests upon them, enhanced as it
+is by the swift, but beautifully uniform motion of the gondola. Now,
+there is no motion more uniform, silent or beautiful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> than that of
+smoke; and, therefore, when we wish the peace or stillness of a scene to
+be impressive, it is highly useful to draw the attention to it.</p>
+
+<p>63. In the cottage, therefore, a building peculiarly adapted for scenes
+of peace, the chimney, as conducting the eye to what is agreeable, may
+be considered as important, and, if well managed, a beautiful
+accompaniment. But in buildings of a higher class, smoke ceases to be
+interesting. Owing to their general greater elevation, it is relieved
+against the sky, instead of against a dark background, thereby losing
+the fine silvery blue,&mdash;which among trees, or rising out of a distant
+country, is so exquisitely beautiful,&mdash;and assuming a dingy yellowish
+black: its motion becomes useless; for the idea of stillness is no
+longer desirable, or, at least, no longer attainable, being interrupted
+by the nature of the building itself: and, finally, the associations it
+arouses are not dignified; we may think of a comfortable fireside,
+perhaps, but are quite as likely to dream of kitchens, and spits, and
+shoulders of mutton. None of these imaginations are in their place, if
+the character of the building be elevated; they are barely tolerable in
+the dwelling house and the street. Now, when smoke is objectionable, it
+is certainly improper to direct attention to the chimney; and,
+therefore, for two weighty reasons, <i>decorated</i> chimneys, of any sort or
+size whatsoever, are inexcusable barbarisms; first, because, where smoke
+is beautiful, decoration is unsuited to the building; and secondly,
+because, where smoke is ugly, decoration directs attention <i>to its
+ugliness</i>.</p>
+
+<p>64. It is unfortunately a prevailing idea with some of our architects,
+that what is a disagreeable object in itself may be relieved or
+concealed by lavish ornament; and there never was a greater mistake. It
+should be a general principle, that what is intrinsically ugly should be
+utterly destitute of ornament, that the eye may not be drawn to it. The
+pretended skulls of the three Magi at Cologne are set in gold, and have
+a diamond in each eye; and are a thousand times more ghastly than if
+their brown bones had been left in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> peace. Such an error as this ought
+never to be committed in architecture. If any part of the building has
+disagreeable associations connected with it, let it alone: do not
+ornament it. Keep it subdued, and simply adapted to its use; and the eye
+will not go to it, nor quarrel with it. It would have been well if this
+principle had been kept in view in the renewal of some of the public
+buildings in Oxford. In All Souls College, for instance, the architect
+has carried his chimneys half as high as all the rest of the building,
+and fretted them with Gothic. The eye is instantly caught by the plated
+candlestick-like columns, and runs with some complacency up the groining
+and fret-work, and alights finally and fatally on a red chimney-top. He
+might as well have built a Gothic aisle at an entrance to a coal wharf.
+We have no scruple in saying that the man who could desecrate the Gothic
+trefoil into an ornament for a chimney has not the slightest feeling,
+and never will have any, of its beauty or its use; he was never born to
+be an architect, and never will be one.</p>
+
+<p>65. Now, if chimneys are not to be decorated (since their existence is
+necessary), it becomes an object of some importance to know what is to
+be done with them: and we enter into the inquiry before leaving the
+cottage, as in its most proper place; because, in the cottage, and only
+in the cottage, it is desirable to direct attention to smoke.</p>
+
+<p>Speculation, however, on the <i>beau id&eacute;al</i> of a chimney can never be
+unshackled; because, though we may imagine what it ought to be, we can
+never tell, until the house is built, what it <i>must</i> be; we may require
+it to be short, and find that it will smoke, unless it is long; or, we
+may desire it to be covered, and find it will not go unless it is open.
+We can fix, therefore, on no one model; but by looking over the chimneys
+of a few nations, we may deduce some general principles from their
+varieties, which may always be brought into play, by whatever
+circumstances our own imaginations may be confined.</p>
+
+<p>66. Looking first to the mind of the people, we cannot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> expect to find
+good examples of the chimney, as we go to the south. The Italian or the
+Spaniard does not know the use of a chimney, properly speaking; they
+<i>have</i> such things, and they light a fire, five days in the year,
+chiefly of wood, which does not give smoke enough to teach the chimney
+its business; but they have not the slightest idea of the meaning or the
+beauty of such things as hobs, and hearths, and Christmas blazes; and we
+should, therefore, expect, <i>&agrave; priori</i>, that there would be no soul in
+their chimneys; that they would have no practiced substantial air about
+them; that they would, in short, be as awkward and as much in the way,
+as individuals of the human race are, when they don't know what to do
+with themselves, or what they were created for. But in England, sweet
+carbonaceous England, we flatter ourselves we <i>do</i> know something about
+fire, and smoke too, or our eyes have strangely deceived us; and, from
+the whole comfortable character and fireside disposition of the nation,
+we should conjecture that the architecture of the chimney would be
+understood, both as a matter of taste and as a matter of comfort, to the
+<i>ne plus ultra</i> of perfection. Let us see how far our expectations are
+realized.</p>
+
+<p>67. Fig. 7, <i>a</i>, <i>b</i> and <i>c</i> are English chimneys. They are
+distinguishable, we think, at a glance, from all the rest, by a
+downright serviceableness of appearance, a substantial, unaffected,
+decent, and chimney-like deportment, in the contemplation of which we
+experience infinite pleasure and edification, particularly as it seems
+to us to be strongly contrasted with an appearance, in all the other
+chimneys, of an indefinable something, only to be expressed by the
+interesting word "humbug." Fig. <i>7 a</i> is a chimney of Cumberland, and
+the north of Lancashire. It is, as may be seen at a glance, only
+applicable at the extremity of the roof, and requires a bent flue. It is
+built of unhewn stones, in the same manner as the Westmoreland cottages;
+the flue itself being not one-third the width of the chimney, as is seen
+at the top, where four flat stones placed on their edges<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> form the
+termination of the flue itself, and give lightness of appearance to the
+whole. Cover this with a piece of paper, and observe how heavy and
+square the rest becomes. A few projecting stones continue the line of
+the roof across the center of the chimney, and two large masses support
+the projection of the whole, and unite it agreeably with the wall. This
+is exclusively a cottage chimney; it cannot, and must not, be built of
+civilized materials; it must be rough, and mossy, and broken; but it is
+decidedly the best chimney of the whole set. It is simple and
+substantial, without being cumbrous; it gives great variety to the wall
+from which it projects, terminates the roof agreeably, and dismisses its
+smoke with infinite propriety.</p>
+
+<p><a name="fig07"></a></p>
+<p class="figcenter"><img src="./images/fig07.jpg"
+alt="Fig. 7. Chimneys." title="Fig. 7. Chimneys." /></p>
+<p class="figcenter caption"><span class="smcap">Fig</span>. 7. Chimneys.</p>
+
+<p>68. Fig. <i>b</i> is a chimney common over the whole of the north of England;
+being, as I think, one that will go well in almost any wind, and is
+applicable at any part of the roof. It is also roughly built, consisting
+of a roof of loose stones, sometimes one large flat slab, supported
+above the flue by four large supports, each of a single stone. It is
+rather light in its appearance, and breaks the ridge of a roof very
+agreeably. Separately considered, it is badly proportioned; but, as it
+just equals the height to which a long chimney at the extremity of the
+building would rise above the roof (as in a), it is quite right <i>in
+situ</i>, and would be ungainly if it were higher. The upper part is always
+dark, owing to the smoke, and tells agreeably against any background
+seen through the hollow.</p>
+
+<p>69. Fig. <i>c</i> is the chimney of the Westmoreland cottage which formed the
+subject of the last paper. The good taste which prevailed in the rest of
+the building is not so conspicuous here, because the architect has begun
+to consider effect instead of utility, and has put a diamond-shaped
+piece of ornament on the front (usually containing the date of the
+building), which was not necessary, and looks out of place. He has
+endeavored to build neatly too, and has bestowed a good deal of plaster
+on the outside, by all which circumstances the work is infinitely
+deteriorated. We<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> have always disliked cylindrical chimneys, probably
+because they put us in mind of glasshouses and manufactories, for we are
+aware of no more definite reason; yet this example is endurable, and has
+a character about it which it would be a pity to lose. Sometimes when
+the square part is carried down the whole front of the cottage, it looks
+like the remains of some gray tower, and is not felt to be a chimney at
+all. Such deceptions are always very dangerous, though in this case
+sometimes attended with good effect, as in the old building called
+Coniston Hall, on the shores of Coniston Water, whose distant outline
+(Fig. 8) is rendered light and picturesque, by the size and shape of its
+chimneys, which are the same in character as Fig. <i>c</i>.</p>
+
+<p><a name="fig08"></a></p>
+<p class="figcenter"><img src="./images/fig08.jpg"
+alt="Fig. 8. Coniston Hall, from the Lake near Brantwood (1837)."
+title="Fig. 8. Coniston Hall, from the Lake near Brantwood (1837)." /></p>
+<p class="figcenter caption"><span class="smcap">Fig.</span> 8. Coniston Hall, from the Lake near
+Brantwood (1837).</p>
+
+<p>70. Of English chimneys adapted for buildings of a more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> elevated
+character, we can adduce no good examples. The old red brick mass, which
+we see in some of our venerable manor-houses, has a great deal of
+English character about it, and is always agreeable, when the rest of
+the building is of brick. Fig. <i>p</i> is a chimney of this kind: there is
+nothing remarkable in it; it is to be met with all over England; but we
+have placed it beside its neighbor <i>q</i> to show how the same form and
+idea are modified by the mind of the nations who employ it. The design
+is the same in both, the proportions also; but the one is a chimney, the
+other a paltry model of a paltrier edifice. Fig. <i>q</i> is Swiss, and is
+liable to all the objections advanced against the Swiss cottages; it is
+a despicable mimicry of a large building, like the tower in the
+engraving of the Italian cottage (&sect; 31), carved in stone, it is true,
+but not the less to be reprobated. Fig. <i>p</i>, on the contrary, is adapted
+to its use, and has no affectation about it. It would be spoiled,
+however, if built in stone; because the marked bricks tell us the size
+of the whole at once, and prevent the eye from suspecting any intention
+to deceive it with a mockery of arches and columns, the imitation of
+which would be too perfect in stone; and therefore, even in this case,
+we have failed in discovering a chimney adapted to the higher class of
+edifices.</p>
+
+<p>71. Fig. <i>d</i> is a Netherland chimney, <i>e</i> and <i>f</i> German. Fig. <i>d</i>
+belongs to an old Gothic building in Malines, and is a good example of
+the application of the same lines to the chimney which occur in other
+parts of the edifice, without bestowing any false elevation of
+character. It is roughly carved in stone, projecting at its base
+grotesquely from the roof, and covered at the top. The pointed arch, by
+which its character is given, prevents it from breaking in upon the
+lines of the rest of the building, and, therefore, in reality renders it
+less conspicuous than it would otherwise have been. We should never have
+noticed its existence, had we not been looking out for chimneys.</p>
+
+<p>72. Fig. <i>e</i> is also carved in stone, and where there is much variety of
+architecture, or where the buildings are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> grotesque, would be a good
+chimney, for the very simple reason, that it resembles nothing but a
+chimney, and its lines are graceful. Fig. <i>f</i>, though ugly in the
+abstract, might be used with effect in situations where perfect
+simplicity would be too conspicuous; but both <i>e</i> and <i>f</i> are evidently
+the awkward efforts of a tasteless nation, to produce something
+original: they have lost the chastity which we admired in <i>a</i>, without
+obtaining the grace and spirit of <i>l</i> and <i>o</i>. In fact, they are
+essentially German.</p>
+
+<p>73. Figs. <i>h</i> to <i>m</i>, inclusive, are Spanish, and have a peculiar
+character, which would render it quite impossible to employ them out of
+their own country. Yet they are not decorated chimneys. There is not one
+fragment of ornament on any of them. All is done by variety of form; and
+with such variety no fault can be found, because it is necessary to give
+them the character of the buildings, out of which they rise. For we may
+observe here, once for all, that character may be given either by form
+or by decoration, and that where the latter is improper, variety of form
+is allowable, because the humble associations which render ornament
+objectionable, also render simplicity of form unnecessary.<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> We need
+not then find fault with <i>fantastic</i> chimneys, provided they are kept in
+unison with the rest of the building, and do not draw too much
+attention.</p>
+
+<p>74. Fig. <i>h</i>, according to this rule, is a very good chimney. It is
+graceful without pretending, and its grotesqueness will suit the
+buildings round it&mdash;we wish we could give them: they are at Cordova.</p>
+
+<p>Figs. <i>k</i> and <i>l</i> ought to be seen, as they would be in reality, rising
+brightly up against the deep blue heaven of the south, the azure
+gleaming through their hollows; unless perchance a slight breath of
+refined, pure, pale vapor finds its way from time to time out of them
+into the light air; their tiled caps casting deep shadows on their
+white<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> surfaces, and their <i>tout ensemble</i> causing no interruption to
+the feelings excited by the Moresco arches and grotesque dwelling houses
+with which they would be surrounded; they are sadly spoiled by being cut
+off at their bases.</p>
+
+<p>75. Figs. <i>g</i>, <i>n</i>, <i>o</i> are Italian. Fig. <i>g</i> has only been given,
+because it is constantly met with among the more modern buildings of
+Italy. Figs. <i>n</i> and <i>o</i> are almost the only two varieties of chimneys
+which are to be found on the old Venetian palaces (whose style is to be
+traced partly to the Turk, and partly to the Moor). The curved lines of
+<i>n</i> harmonize admirably with those of the roof itself, and its
+diminutive size leaves the simplicity of form of the large building to
+which it belongs entirely uninterrupted and uninjured. Fig. <i>o</i> is seen
+perpetually carrying the whiteness of the Venetian marble up into the
+sky; but it is too tall, and attracts by far too much attention, being
+conspicuous on the sides of all the canals.</p>
+
+<p>76. Figs. <i>q</i>, <i>r</i>, <i>s</i> are Swiss. Fig. <i>r</i> is one specimen of an
+extensive class of decorated chimneys, met with in the northeastern
+cantons. It is never large, and consequently having no false elevation
+of character, and being always seen with eyes which have been prepared
+for it, by resting on the details of the Swiss cottage, is less
+disagreeable than might be imagined, but ought never to be imitated. The
+pyramidal form is generally preserved, but the design is the same in no
+two examples.</p>
+
+<p>Fig. <i>s</i> is a chimney very common in the eastern cantons, the principle
+of which we never understood. The oblique part moves on a hinge, so as
+to be capable of covering the chimney like a hat; and the whole is
+covered with wooden scales, like those of a fish. This chimney sometimes
+comes in very well among the confused rafters of the mountain cottage,
+though it is rather too remarkable to be in good taste.</p>
+
+<p>77. It seems then, that out of the eighteen chimneys, which we have
+noticed, though several possess character, and one or two elegance, only
+two are to be found fit for imitation; and, of these, one is exclusively
+a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span><i>cottage</i> chimney. This is somewhat remarkable and may serve as a
+proof:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>First, of what we at first asserted, that chimneys which in any way
+attract notice (and if these had not, we should not have sketched them)
+were seldom to be imitated; that there are few buildings which require
+them to be singular, and none which can tolerate them if decorated; and
+that the architect should always remember that the size and height being
+by necessity fixed, the form which draws least attention is the best.</p>
+
+<p>78. Secondly, that this inconspicuousness is to be obtained, not by
+adhering to any model of simplicity, but by taking especial care that
+the lines of the chimney are no interruption, and its color no contrast,
+to those of the building to which it belongs. Thus Figs. <i>h</i> to <i>m</i>
+would be far more actually remarkable in their natural situation, if
+they were more simple in their form; for they would interrupt the
+character of the rich architecture by which they are surrounded. Fig.
+<i>d</i>, rising as it does above an old Gothic window, would have attracted
+instant attention, had it not been for the occurrence of the same lines
+in it which prevail beneath it. The form of <i>n</i> only assimilates it more
+closely with the roof on which it stands. But we must not <i>imitate</i>
+chimneys of this kind, for their excellence consists only in their
+agreement with other details, separated from which they would be
+objectionable; we can only follow the principle of the design, which
+appears, from all that we have advanced, to be this: we require, in a
+good chimney, <i>the character of the building to which it belongs
+divested of all its elevation, and its prevailing lines, deprived of all
+their ornament</i>.</p>
+
+<p>79. This it is, no doubt, excessively difficult to give; and, in
+consequence, there are very few cities or edifices in which the chimneys
+are not objectionable. We must not, therefore, omit to notice the
+fulfillment of our expectations, founded on English character. The only
+two chimneys fit for imitation, in the whole eighteen, are English; and
+we would not infer anything from this, tending to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> invalidate the
+position formerly advanced, that there was no taste in England; but we
+would adduce it as a farther illustration of the rule, that what is most
+adapted to its purpose is most beautiful. For that we have no taste,
+even in chimneys, is sufficiently proved by the roof effects, even of
+the most ancient, unaffected, and unplastered of our streets, in which
+the chimneys, instead of assisting in the composition of the groups of
+roofs, stand out in staring masses of scarlet and black, with foxes and
+cocks whisking about, like so many little black devils, in the smoke on
+the top of them, interrupting all repose, annihilating all dignity, and
+awaking every possible conception which would be picturesque, and every
+imagination which would be rapturous, to the mind of master-sweeps.</p>
+
+<p>80. On the other hand, though they have not on the Continent the same
+knowledge of the use and beauty of chimneys in the abstract, they
+display their usual good taste in grouping, or concealing them; and,
+whether we find them mingling with the fantastic domiciles of the
+German, with the rich imaginations of the Spaniard, with the classical
+remains and creations of the Italian, they are never intrusive or
+disagreeable; and either assist the grouping, and relieve the
+horizontality of the lines of the roof, or remain entirely unnoticed and
+insignificant, smoking their pipes in peace.</p>
+
+<p>81. It is utterly impossible to give rules for the attainment of these
+effects, since they are the result of a feeling of the proportion and
+relation of lines, which, if not natural to a person, cannot be
+acquired, but by long practice and close observation; and it presupposes
+a power rarely bestowed on an English architect, of setting regularity
+at defiance, and sometimes comfort out of the question. We could give
+some particular examples of this grouping; but, as this paper has
+already swelled to an unusual length, we shall defer them until we come
+to the consideration of street effects in general. Of the chimney in the
+abstract, we are afraid we have only said enough to illustrate, without
+removing, the difficulty of designing it; but we cannot but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> think that
+the general principles which have been deduced, if carefully followed
+out, would be found useful, if not for the attainment of excellence, at
+least for the prevention of barbarism.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Oxford</span>, <i>Feb. 10, [1838].</i></p>
+
+<div class="footnotes">
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> Elevation of character, as was seen in the Italian
+cottage, depends upon simplicity of form.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p>
+<h3>VI.</h3>
+
+<h2>THE COTTAGE&mdash;CONCLUDING REMARKS.</h2>
+
+<h4>"Nunquam aliud Natura, aliud Sapientia, dicit."&mdash;<i>Juvenal</i> xiv. 321.</h4>
+
+
+<p>82. It now only remains for us to conclude the subject of the cottage,
+by a few general remarks on the just application of modern buildings to
+adorn or vivify natural scenery.</p>
+
+<p>There are, we think, only three cases in which the cottage is considered
+as an element of architectural, or any other kind of beauty, since it is
+ordinarily raised by the peasant where he likes, and how he likes; and,
+therefore, as we have seen, frequently in good taste.</p>
+
+<p>83. I. When a nobleman, or man of fortune, amuses himself with
+superintending the erection of the domiciles of his domestics. II. When
+ornamental summer-houses, or mimicries of wigwams, are to be erected as
+ornamental adjuncts to a prospect which the owner has done all he can to
+spoil, that it may be worthy of the honor of having him to look at it.
+III. When the landlord exercises a certain degree of influence over the
+cottages of his tenants, or the improvements of the neighboring village,
+so as to induce such a tone of feeling in the new erections as he may
+think suitable to the situation.</p>
+
+<p>84. In the first of these cases, there is little to be said; for the
+habitation of the domestic is generally a dependent feature of his
+master's, and, therefore, to be considered as a part of it. Porters'
+lodges are also dependent upon, and to be regulated by, the style of the
+architecture to which they are attached; and they are generally well
+managed in England, properly united with the gate, and adding to the
+effect of the entrance.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>In the second case, as the act is in itself a barbarism, it would be
+useless to consider what would be the best mode of perpetrating it.</p>
+
+<p>In the third case, we think it will be useful to apply a few general
+principles, deduced from positions formerly advanced.</p>
+
+<p>85. All buildings are, of course, to be considered in connection with
+the country in which they are to be raised. Now, all landscape must
+possess one out of four distinct characters.</p>
+
+<p>It must be either woody, the green country; cultivated, the blue
+country; wild, the gray country; or hilly, the brown country.</p>
+
+<p>I. The Woody, or green, Country. By this is to be understood the mixture
+of park, pasture, and variegated forest, which is only to be seen in
+temperate climates, and in those parts of a kingdom which have not often
+changed proprietors, but have remained in unproductive beauty (or at
+least, furnishing timber only), the garden of the wealthier population.
+It is to be seen in no other country, perhaps, so well as in England. In
+other districts, we find extensive masses of black forest, but not the
+mixture of sunny glade, and various foliage, and dewy sward, which we
+meet with in the richer park districts of England. This kind of country
+is always surgy, oceanic, and massy, in its outline: it never affords
+blue distances, unless seen from a height; and, even then, the nearer
+groups are large, and draw away the attention from the background. The
+under soil is kept cool by the shade, and its vegetation rich; so that
+the prevailing color, except for a few days at the fall of the leaf, is
+a fresh green. A good example of this kind of country is the view from
+Richmond Hill.</p>
+
+<p>86. Now, first, let us consider what sort of feeling this green country
+excites; and, in order to do so, be it observed, that anything which is
+apparently enduring and unchangeable gives us an impression rather of
+future, than of past, duration of existence; but anything which being
+perishable, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> from its nature subject to change, has yet existed to a
+great age, gives us an impression of antiquity, though, of course, none
+of stability. A mountain, for instance (not geologically speaking, for
+then the furrows on its brow give it age as visible as was ever wrinkled
+on human forehead, but considering it as it appears to ordinary eyes),
+appears to be beyond the influence of change: it does not put us in mind
+of its past existence, by showing us any of the effect of time upon
+itself; we do not feel that it is old, because it is not approaching any
+kind of death; it is a mass of unsentient undecaying matter, which, if
+we think about it, we discover must have existed for some time, but
+which does not tell this fact to our feelings, or, rather, which tells
+us of no time at which it came into existence; and therefore, gives us
+no standard by which to measure its age, which, unless measured, cannot
+be distinctly felt. But a very old forest tree is a thing subject to the
+same laws of nature as ourselves: it is an energetic being, liable to an
+approaching death; its age is written on every spray; and, because we
+see it is susceptible of life and annihilation, like our own, we imagine
+it must be capable of the same feelings, and possess the same faculties,
+and, above all others, memory: it is always telling us about the past,
+never pointing to the future; we appeal to it, as to a thing which has
+seen and felt during a life similar to our own, though of ten times its
+duration, and therefore receive from it a perpetual impression of
+antiquity. So again a ruined town gives us an impression of antiquity;
+the stones of which it is built, none; for their age is not written upon
+them.</p>
+
+<p>87. This being the case, it is evident that the chief feeling induced by
+woody country is one of reverence for its antiquity. There is a quiet
+melancholy about the decay of the patriarchal trunks, which is enhanced
+by the green and elastic vigor of the young saplings; the noble form of
+the forest aisles, and the subdued light which penetrates their
+entangled boughs, combine to add to the impression; and the whole
+character of the scene is calculated to excite<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> conservative feeling.
+The man who could remain a radical in a wood country is a disgrace to
+his species.</p>
+
+<p>88. Now, this feeling of mixed melancholy and veneration is the one of
+all others which the modern cottage must not be allowed to violate. It
+may be fantastic or rich in detail; for the one character will make it
+look old-fashioned, and the other will assimilate with the intertwining
+of leaf and bough around it: but it must not be spruce, or natty, or
+very bright in color; and the older it looks the better.</p>
+
+<p>A little grotesqueness in form is the more allowable, because the
+imagination is naturally active in the obscure and indefinite daylight
+of wood scenery; conjures up innumerable beings, of every size and
+shape, to people its alleys and smile through its thickets; and is by no
+means displeased to find some of its inventions half-realized in a
+decorated panel or grinning extremity of a rafter.</p>
+
+<p>89. These characters being kept in view, as objects to be attained, the
+remaining considerations are technical.</p>
+
+<p>For the form. Select any well-grown group of the tree which prevails
+most near the proposed site of the cottage. Its summit will be a rounded
+mass. Take the three principal points of its curve: namely, its apex and
+the two points where it unites itself with neighboring masses. Strike a
+circle through these three points; and the angle contained in the
+segment cut off by a line joining the two lower points is to be the
+angle of the cottage roof. (Of course we are not thinking of interior
+convenience: the architect must establish his mode of beauty first, and
+then approach it as nearly as he can.) This angle will generally be very
+obtuse; and this is one reason why the Swiss cottage is always beautiful
+when it is set among walnut or chestnut trees. Its obtuse roof is just
+about the true angle. With pines or larches, the angle should not be
+regulated by the form of the tree, but by the slope of the branches. The
+building itself should be low and long, so that, if possible, it may not
+be seen all at once, but may be partially concealed by trunks or leafage
+at various distances.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>90. For the color, that of wood is always beautiful. If the wood of the
+near trees be used, so much the better; but the timbers should be
+rough-hewn, and allowed to get weather-stained. Cold colors will not
+suit with green; and, therefore, slated roofs are disagreeable, unless,
+as in the Westmoreland cottage, the gray roof is warmed with lichenous
+vegetation, when it will do well with anything; but thatch is better. If
+the building be not of wood, the walls may be built of anything which
+will give them a quiet and unobtruding warmth of tone. White, if in
+shade, is sometimes allowable; but, if visible at any point more than
+200 yards off, it will spoil the whole landscape. In general, as we saw
+before, the building will bear some fantastic finishing, that is, if it
+be entangled in forest; but, if among massive groups of trees, separated
+by smooth sward, it must be kept simple.</p>
+
+<p>91. II. The Cultivated, or blue, Country. This is the rich champaign
+land, in which large trees are more sparingly scattered, and which is
+chiefly devoted to the purposes of agriculture. In this we are
+perpetually getting blue distances from the slightest elevation, which
+are rendered more decidedly so by their contrast with warm corn or
+plowed fields in the foreground. Such is the greater part of England.
+The view from the hills of Malvern is a good example. In districts of
+this kind, all is change; one year's crop has no memory of its
+predecessor; all is activity, prosperity, and usefulness: nothing is
+left to the imagination; there is no obscurity, no poetry, no nonsense:
+the colors of the landscape are bright and varied; it is thickly
+populated, and glowing with animal life. Here, then, the character of
+the cottage must be cheerfulness; its colors may be vivid: white is
+always beautiful; even red tiles are allowable, and red bricks
+endurable. Neatness will not spoil it: the angle of its roof may be
+acute, its windows sparkling, and its roses red and abundant; but it
+must not be ornamented nor fantastic, it must be evidently built for the
+uses of common life, and have a matter-of-fact business-like air about
+it. Its out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>houses and pigsties, and dunghills should therefore, be kept
+in sight: the latter may be made very pretty objects, by twisting them
+with the pitchfork, and plaiting them into braids, as the Swiss do.</p>
+
+<p>92. III. The Wild, or gray, Country. "Wild" is not exactly a correct
+epithet; we mean wide, uninclosed, treeless undulations of land, whether
+cultivated or not. The greater part of northern France, though well
+brought under the plow, would come under the denomination of gray
+country. Occasional masses of monotonous forest do not destroy this
+character. Here, size is desirable, and massiness of form; but we must
+have no brightness of color in the cottage, otherwise it would draw the
+eye to it at three miles off, and the whole landscape would be covered
+with conspicuous dots. White is agreeable, if sobered down; slate
+allowable on the roof as well as thatch. For the rest, we need only
+refer to the remarks made on the propriety of the French cottage.</p>
+
+<p>93. Lastly, Hill, or brown, Country. And here if we look to England
+alone, as peculiarly a cottage country, the remarks formerly advanced,
+in the consideration of the Westmoreland cottage, are sufficient; but if
+we go into mountain districts of more varied character, we shall find a
+difference existing between every range of hills, which will demand a
+corresponding difference in the style of their cottages. The principles,
+however, are the same in all situations, and it would be a hopeless task
+to endeavor to give more than general principles. In hill country,
+however, another question is introduced, whose investigation is
+peculiarly necessary in cases in which the ground has inequality of
+surface, that of position. And the difficulty here is, not so much to
+ascertain where the building ought to be, as to put it there, without
+suggesting any inquiry as to the mode in which it got there; to prevent
+its just application from appearing artificial. But we cannot enter into
+this inquiry, before laying down a number of principles of composition,
+which are applicable, not only to cottages, but generally; and which we
+cannot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> deduce until we come to the consideration of buildings in
+groups.</p>
+
+<p>94. Such are the great divisions under which country and rural buildings
+may be comprehended; but there are intermediate conditions, in which
+modified forms of the cottage are applicable; and it frequently happens
+that country which, considered in the abstract, would fall under one of
+these classes, possesses, owing to its peculiar climate or associations,
+a very different character. Italy, for instance, is blue country; yet it
+has not the least resemblance to English blue country. We have paid
+particular attention to wood; first, because we had not, in any previous
+paper, considered what was beautiful in a forest cottage; and secondly,
+because in such districts there is generally much more influence
+exercised by proprietors over their tenantry, than in populous and
+cultivated districts; and our English park scenery, though exquisitely
+beautiful, is sometimes, we think, a little monotonous, from the want of
+this very feature.</p>
+
+<p>95. And now, farewell to the cottage, and, with it, to the humility of
+natural scenery. We are sorry to leave it; not that we have any idea of
+living in a cottage, as a comfortable thing; not that we prefer mud to
+marble, or deal to mahogany; but that, with it, we leave much of what is
+most beautiful of earth, the low and bee-inhabited scenery, which is
+full of quiet and prideless emotion, of such calmness as we can imagine
+prevailing over our earth when it was new in heaven. We are going into
+higher walks of architecture, where we shall find a less close
+connection established between the building and the soil on which it
+stands, or the air with which it is surrounded, but a closer connection
+with the character of its inhabitant. We shall have less to do with
+natural feeling, and more with human passion; we are coming out of
+stillness into turbulence, out of seclusion into the multitude, out of
+the wilderness into the world.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="PART_II" id="PART_II"></a><i>PART II.</i></h2>
+
+<h2>The Villa.</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>THE MOUNTAIN VILLA: LAGO DI COMO:</p>
+
+<p>THE LOWLAND VILLA:&mdash;ENGLAND:</p>
+
+<p>THE BRITISH VILLA: PRINCIPLES OF COMPOSITION.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="I" id="I"></a>I.</h3>
+
+<h2>THE MOUNTAIN VILLA&mdash;LAGO DI COMO.</h2>
+
+
+<p>96. In all arts or sciences, before we can determine what is just or
+beautiful in a group, we must ascertain what is desirable in the parts
+which compose it, separately considered; and therefore it will be most
+advantageous in the present case, to keep out of the village and the
+city, until we have searched hill and dale for examples of isolated
+buildings. This mode of considering the subject is also agreeable to the
+feelings, as the transition from the higher orders of solitary edifices,
+to groups of associated edifices, is not so sudden or startling, as that
+from nature's most humble peace, to man's most turbulent pride.</p>
+
+<p>We have contemplated the rural dwelling of the peasant; let us next
+consider the ruralized domicile of the gentleman: and here, as before,
+we shall first determine what is theoretically beautiful, and then
+observe how far our expectations are fulfilled in individual buildings.
+But a few preliminary observations are necessary.</p>
+
+<p>97. Man, the peasant, is a being of more marked national character, than
+man, the educated and refined. For nationality is founded, in a great
+degree, on prejudices and feelings inculcated and aroused in youth,
+which grow inveterate in the mind as long as its views are confined to
+the place of its birth; its ideas molded by the customs of its country,
+and its conversation limited to a circle composed of individuals of
+habits and feelings like its own; but which are gradually softened down,
+and eradicated, when the mind is led into general views of things, when
+it is guided by reflection instead of habit, and has begun to lay aside
+opinions contracted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> under the influence of association and
+prepossession, substituting in their room philosophical deductions from
+the calm contemplation of the various tempers, and thoughts, and
+customs, of mankind. The love of its country will remain with
+undiminished strength in the cultivated mind, but the national modes of
+thinking will vanish from the disciplined intellect.</p>
+
+<p>98. Now as it is only by these mannerisms of thought that architecture
+is affected, we shall find that, the more polished the mind of its
+designer, the less national will be the building; for its architect will
+be led away by a search after a model of ideal beauty, and will not be
+involuntarily guided by deep-rooted feelings, governing irresistibly his
+heart and hand. He will therefore be in perpetual danger of forgetting
+the necessary unison of scene and climate, and, following up the chase
+of the ideal, will neglect the beauty of the natural; an error which he
+could not commit, were he less general in his views, for then the
+prejudices to which he would be subject, would be as truly in unison
+with the objects which created them, as answering notes with the chords
+which awaken them. We must not, therefore, be surprised, if buildings
+bearing impress of the exercise of fine thought and high talent in their
+design, should yet offend us by perpetual discords with scene and
+climate; and if, therefore, we sometimes derive less instruction, and
+less pleasure from the columnar portico of the Palace, than from the
+latched door of the Cottage.</p>
+
+<p>99. Again: man, in his hours of relaxation, when he is engaged in the
+pursuit of mere pleasure, is less national than when he is under the
+influence of any of the more violent feelings which agitate everyday
+life. The reason of this may at first appear somewhat obscure, but it
+will become evident, on a little reflection. Aristotle's definition of
+pleasure, perhaps the best ever given, is "an agitation, and settling of
+the spirit into its own proper nature;" similar, by the by, to the
+giving of liberty of motion to the molecules of a mineral, followed by
+their crystallization, into their own proper<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> form. Now this "proper
+nature," <span class="greek" title="hyparchousan physin">&#8017;&#960;&#945;&#961;&#967;&#959;&#965;&#963;&#945;&#957; &#966;&#965;&#963;&#953;&#957;</span>, is not the acquired national
+habit, but the common and universal constitution of the human soul. This
+constitution is kept under by the feelings which prompt to action, for
+those feelings depend upon parts of character, or of prejudice, which
+are peculiar to individuals or to nations; and the pleasure which all
+men seek is a kind of partial casting away of these more active
+feelings, to return to the calm and unchanging constitution of mind
+which is the same in all.</p>
+
+<p>100. We shall, therefore, find that man, in the business of his life, in
+religion, war, or ambition, is national, but in relaxation he manifests
+a nature common to every individual of his race. A Turk, for instance,
+and an English farmer, smoking their evening pipes, differ only in so
+much as the one has a mouthpiece of amber, and the other one of sealing
+wax; the one has a turban on his head, and the other a night-cap; they
+are the same in feeling, and to all intents and purposes the same men.
+But a Turkish janissary and an English grenadier differ widely in all
+their modes of thinking, feeling, and acting; they are strictly
+national. So again, a Tyrolese evening dance, though the costume, and
+the step, and the music may be different, is the same in feeling as that
+of the Parisian guinguette; but follow the Tyrolese into their temples,
+and their deep devotion and beautiful though superstitious reverence
+will be found very different from any feeling exhibited during a mass in
+Notre-Dame. This being the case, it is a direct consequence, that we
+shall find much nationality in the Church or the Fortress, or in any
+building devoted to the purposes of active life, but very little in that
+which is dedicated exclusively to relaxation, the Villa. We shall be
+compelled to seek out nations of very strong feeling and imaginative
+disposition, or we shall find no correspondence whatever between their
+character, and that of their buildings devoted to pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>101. In our own country, for instance, there is not the slightest.
+Beginning at the head of Windermere, and running down its border for
+about six miles, there are six impor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>tant gentlemen's seats, villas they
+may be called; the first of which is a square white mass, decorated with
+pilasters of no order, set in a green avenue, sloping down to the water;
+the second is an imitation, we suppose, of something possessing
+theoretical existence in Switzerland, with sharp gable ends, and wooden
+flourishes turning the corners, set on a little dumpy mound with a slate
+wall running all round it, glittering with iron pyrites; the third is a
+blue dark-looking box, squeezed up into a group of straggly larches,
+with a bog in front of it; the fourth is a cream-colored domicile, in a
+large park, rather quiet and unaffected, the best of the four, though
+that is not saying much; the fifth is an old-fashioned thing, formal,
+and narrow-windowed, yet gray in its tone, and quiet, and not to be
+maligned; and the sixth is a nondescript, circular, putty-colored
+habitation, with a leaden dome on the top of it.</p>
+
+<p>102. If, however, instead of taking Windermere, we trace the shore of
+the Lago di Como, we shall find some expression and nationality; and
+there, therefore, will we go, to return, however, to England, when we
+have obtained some data by which to judge of her more fortunate
+edifices. We notice the mountain villa first, for two reasons; because
+effect is always more considered in its erection, than when it is to be
+situated in a less interesting country, and because the effect desired
+is very rarely given, there being far greater difficulties to contend
+with. But one word more, before setting off for the south. Though, as we
+saw before, the gentleman has less <i>national</i> character than the boor,
+his <i>individual</i> character is more marked, especially in its finer
+features, which are clearly and perfectly developed by education;
+consequently, when the inhabitant of the villa has had anything to do
+with its erection, we might expect to find indications of individual and
+peculiar feelings, which it would be most interesting to follow out. But
+this is no part of our present task; at some future period we hope to
+give a series of essays on the habitations of the most distinguished men
+of Europe, showing how the alterations which they directed, and the
+expression which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> they bestowed, corresponded with the turn of their
+emotions, and leading intellectual faculties: but at present we have to
+deal only with generalities; we have to ascertain not what will be
+pleasing to a single mind, but what will afford gratification to every
+eye possessing a certain degree of experience, and every mind endowed
+with a certain degree of taste.</p>
+
+<p>103. Without further preface, therefore, let us endeavor to ascertain
+what would be theoretically beautiful, on the shore, or among the
+scenery of the Larian Lake, preparatory to a sketch of the general
+features of those villas which exist there, in too great a multitude to
+admit, on our part, of much individual detail.</p>
+
+<p>For the general tone of the scenery, we may refer to the paper on the
+Italian cottage; for the shores of the Lake of Como have generally the
+character there described, with a little more cheerfulness, and a little
+less elevation,<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> aided by great variety of form. They are not
+quite so rich in vegetation as the plains: both because the soil is
+scanty, there being, of course, no decomposition going on among the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>
+rocks of black marble which form the greater part of the shore; and
+because the mountains rise steeply from the water, leaving only a narrow
+zone at their bases in the climate of Italy. In that zone, however, the
+olive grows in great luxuriance, with the cypress, orange, aloe, myrtle,
+and vine, the latter always trellised.</p>
+
+<p>104. Now, as to the situation of the cottage, we have already seen that
+great humility was necessary, both in the building and its site, to
+prevent it from offending us by an apparent struggle with forces,
+compared with which its strength was dust: but we cannot have this
+extreme humility in the villa, the dwelling of wealth and power, and yet
+we must not, any more, suggest the idea of its resisting natural
+influences under which the Pyramids could not abide. The only way of
+solving the difficulty is, to select such sites as shall seem to have
+been set aside by nature as places of rest, as points of calm and
+enduring beauty, ordained to sit and smile in their glory of quietness,
+while the avalanche brands the mountain top,<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> and the torrent
+desolates the valley; yet so preserved, not by shelter amidst violence,
+but by being placed wholly out of the influence of violence. For in this
+they must differ from the site of the cottage, that the peasant may seek
+for protection under some low rock or in some narrow dell, but the villa
+must have a domain to itself, at once conspicuous, beautiful, and calm.</p>
+
+<p>105. As regards the form of the cottage, we have seen how<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> the
+Westmoreland cottage harmonized with the ease of outline so conspicuous
+in hill scenery, by the irregularity of its details; but, here, no such
+irregularity is allowable or consistent, and is not even desirable. For
+the cottage enhances the wildness of the surrounding scene, by
+sympathizing with it; the villa must do the same thing, by contrasting
+with it. The eye feels, in a far greater degree, the terror of the
+distant and desolate peaks, when it passes down their ravined sides to
+sloping and verdant hills, and is guided from these to the rich glow of
+vegetable life in the low zones, and through this glow to the tall front
+of some noble edifice, peaceful even in its pride. But this contrast
+must not be sudden, or it will be startling and harsh; and therefore, as
+we saw above, the villa must be placed where all the severe features of
+the scene, though not concealed, are distant, and where there is a
+graduation, so to speak, of impressions, from terror to loveliness, the
+one softened by distance, the other elevated in its style: and the form
+of the villa must not be fantastic or angular, but must be full of
+variety, so tempered by simplicity as to obtain ease of outline united
+with elevation of character; the first being necessary for reasons
+before advanced, and the second, that the whole may harmonize with the
+feelings induced by the lofty features of the accompanying scenery in
+any hill country, and yet more, on the Larian Lake, by the deep memories
+and everlasting associations which haunt the stillness of its shore. Of
+the color required by Italian landscape we have spoken before, and we
+shall see that, particularly in this case, white or pale tones are
+agreeable.</p>
+
+<p>106. We shall now proceed to the situation and form of the villa. As
+regards situation; the villas of the Lago di Como are built, <i>par
+pr&eacute;f&eacute;rence</i>, either on jutting promontories of low crag covered with
+olives, or on those parts of the shore where some mountain stream has
+carried out a bank of alluvium into the lake. One object proposed in
+this choice of situation is, to catch the breeze as it comes up the main
+opening of the hills, and to avoid the reflection of the sun's rays from
+the rocks of the actual shore; and another is, to ob<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>tain a prospect up
+or down the lake, and of the hills on whose projection the villa is
+built: but the effect of this choice when the building is considered the
+object, is to carry it exactly into the place where it ought to be, far
+from the steep precipice and dark mountain, to the border of the winding
+bay and citron-scented cape, where it stands at once conspicuous and in
+peace. For instance, in the view of Villa Serbelloni<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> from across the
+lake, although the eye falls suddenly from the crags above to the
+promontory below, yet all the sublime and severe features of the scene
+are kept in the distance, and the villa itself is mingled with graceful
+lines, and embosomed in rich vegetation. The promontory separates the
+Lake of Lecco from that of Como, properly so-called, and is three miles
+from the opposite shore, which gives room enough for a&euml;rial perspective.</p>
+
+<p>107. We shall now consider the form of the villa. It is generally the
+apex of a series of artificial terraces, which conduct through its
+gardens to the water. These are formal in their design, but extensive,
+wide, and majestic in their slope, the steps being generally about 1/2
+ft. high and 4-1/2 ft. wide (sometimes however much deeper). They are
+generally supported by white wall, strengthened by unfilled arches, the
+angles being turned by sculptured pedestals, surmounted by statues, or
+urns. Along the terraces are carried rows, sometimes of cypress, more
+frequently of orange or lemon trees, with myrtles, sweet bay, and aloes,
+intermingled, but always with dark and spiry cypresses occurring in
+groups; and attached to these terraces, or to the villa itself, are
+series of arched grottoes built (or sometimes cut in the rock) for
+cool<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>ness, frequently overhanging the water, kept dark and fresh, and
+altogether delicious to the feelings. A good instance of these united
+peculiarities is seen in Villa Somma-Riva, Lago di Como.</p>
+
+<p>The effect of these approaches is disputable. It is displeasing to many,
+from its formality; but we are persuaded that it is right, because it is
+a national style, and therefore has in all probability due connection
+with scene and character: and this connection we shall endeavor to
+prove.</p>
+
+<p>108. The frequent occurrence of the arch is always delightful in distant
+effect, partly on account of its graceful line, partly because the shade
+it casts is varied in depth, becoming deeper and deeper as the grotto
+retires, and partly because it gives great apparent elevation to the
+walls which it supports. The grottoes themselves are agreeable objects
+seen near, because they give an impression of coolness to the eye; and
+they echo all sounds with great melody; small streams are often
+conducted through them, occasioning slight breezes by their motion. Then
+the statue and the urn are graceful in their outline, classical in their
+meaning, and correct in their position, for where could they be more
+appropriate than here; the one ministering to memory, and the other to
+mourning. The terraces themselves are dignified in their character (a
+necessary effect, as we saw above), and even the formal rows of trees
+are right in this climate, for a peculiar reason. Effect is always to be
+considered, in Italy, as if the sun were always to shine, for it does
+nine days out of ten. Now the shadows of foliage regularly disposed,
+fall with a grace which it is impossible to describe, running up and
+down across the marble steps, and casting alternate statues into
+darkness; and checkering the white walls with a "method in their
+madness," altogether unattainable by loose grouping of trees; and
+therefore, for the sake of this kind of shade, to which the eye, as well
+as the feeling, is attracted, the long row of cypresses or orange trees
+is allowable.</p>
+
+<p>109. But there is a still more important reason for it, of a directly
+contrary nature to that which its formality would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> seem to require. In
+all beautiful designs of exterior descent, a certain regularity is
+necessary; the lines should be graceful, but they must balance each
+other, slope answering to slope, statue to statue. Now this mathematical
+regularity would hurt the eye excessively in the midst of scenes of
+natural grace, were it executed in bare stone; but, if we make part of
+the design itself foliage, and put in touches of regular shade,
+alternating with the stone, whose distances and darkness are as
+mathematically limited as the rest of the grouping, but whose nature is
+changeful and varied in individual forms, we have obtained a link
+between nature and art, a step of transition, leading the feelings
+gradually from the beauty of regularity to that of freedom. And this
+effect would not be obtained, as might at first appear, by intermingling
+trees of different kinds, at irregular distances, or wherever they chose
+to grow; for then the design and the foliage would be instantly
+separated by the eye, the symmetry of the one would be interrupted, the
+grace of the other lost; the nobility of the design would not be seen,
+but its formality would be felt; and the wildness of the trees would be
+injurious, because it would be felt to be out of place. On principles of
+composition, therefore, the regular disposition of decorative foliage is
+right, when such foliage is mixed with architecture; but it requires
+great taste, and long study, to design this disposition properly. Trees
+of dark leaf and little color should be invariably used, for they are to
+be considered, it must be remembered, rather as free touches of shade
+than as trees.</p>
+
+<p>110. Take, for instance, the most simple bit of design, such as a hollow
+balustrade, and suppose that it is found to look cold or raw, when
+executed, and to want depth. Then put small pots, with any dark shrub,
+the darker the better, at fixed places behind them, at the same distance
+as the balustrades, or between every two or three, and keep them cut
+down to a certain height, and we have immediate depth and increased
+ease, with undiminished symmetry. But the great difficulty is to keep
+the thing within proper limits, since too<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> much of it will lead to
+paltriness, as is the case in a slight degree in Isola Bella, on Lago
+Maggiore; and not to let it run into small details: for, be it
+remembered, that it is only in the majesty of art, in its large and
+general effects, that this regularity is allowable; nothing but variety
+should be studied in detail, and therefore there can be no barbarism
+greater than the lozenge borders and beds of the French garden. The
+scenery around must be naturally rich, that its variety of line may
+relieve the slight stiffness of the architecture itself: and the climate
+must always be considered; for, as we saw, the chief beauty of these
+flights of steps depends upon the presence of the sun; and, if they are
+to be in shade half the year, the dark trees will only make them gloomy,
+the grass will grow between the stones of the steps, black weeds will
+flicker from the pedestals, damp mosses discolor the statues and urns,
+and the whole will become one incongruous ruin, one ridiculous decay.
+Besides, the very dignity of its character, even could it be kept in
+proper order, would be out of place in any country but Italy. Busts of
+Virgil or Ariosto would look astonished in an English snowstorm; statues
+of Apollo and Diana would be no more divine, where the laurels of the
+one would be weak, and the crescent of the other would never gleam in
+pure moonlight. The whole glory of the design consists in its unison
+with the dignity of the landscape, and with the classical tone of the
+country. Take it away from its concomitant circumstances, and, instead
+of conducting the eye to it by a series of lofty and dreamy impressions,
+bring it through green lanes, or over copse-covered crags, as would be
+the case in England, and the whole system becomes utterly and absolutely
+absurd, ugly in outline, worse than useless in application, unmeaning in
+design, and incongruous in association.</p>
+
+<p>111. It seems, then, that in the approach to the Italian villa, we have
+discovered great nationality and great beauty, which was more than we
+could have expected, but a beauty utterly untransferable from its own
+settled habitation. In our next paper we shall proceed to the building
+itself, which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> will not detain us long, as it is generally simple in its
+design, and take a general view of villa architecture over Italy.</p>
+
+<p>112. We have bestowed considerable attention on this style of Garden
+Architecture, because it has been much abused by persons of high
+authority, and general good taste, who forgot, in their love of grace
+and ideal beauty, the connection with surrounding circumstances so
+manifest even in its formality. Eustace, we think, is one of these; and,
+although it is an error of a kind he is perpetually committing, he is so
+far right, that this mannerism is frequently carried into excess even in
+its own peculiar domain, then becoming disagreeable, and is always a
+dangerous style in inexperienced hands. We think, however, paradoxical
+as the opinion may appear, that every one who is a true lover of nature,
+and has been bred in her wild school, will be an admirer of this
+symmetrical designing, in its place; and will feel, as often as he
+contemplates it, that the united effect of the wide and noble steps,
+with the pure water dashing over them like heated crystal, the long
+shadows of the cypress groves, the golden leaves and glorious light of
+blossom of the glancing aloes, the pale statues gleaming along the
+heights in their everlasting death in life, their motionless brows
+looking down forever on the loveliness in which their beings once dwelt,
+marble forms of more than mortal grace lightening along the green
+arcades, amidst dark cool grottoes, full of the voice of dashing waters,
+and of the breath of myrtle blossoms, with the blue of the deep lake and
+the distant precipice mingling at every opening with the eternal snows
+glowing in their noontide silence, is one not unworthy of Italy's most
+noble remembrances.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes">
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> That Italian mountain scenery has less elevation of
+character than the plains may appear singular; but there are many simple
+reasons for a fact which, we doubt not, has been felt by every one
+(capable of feeling anything), who ever left the Alps to pass into
+Lombardy. The first is, that a mountain scene, as we saw in the last
+paper, bears no traces of decay, since it never possessed any of life.
+The desolation of the sterile peaks, never having been interrupted, is
+altogether free from the melancholy which is consequent on the passing
+away of interruption. They stood up in the time of Italy's glory, into
+the voiceless air, while all the life and light which she remembers now
+was working and moving at their feet, an animated cloud, which they did
+not feel, and do not miss. That region of life never reached up their
+flanks, and has left them no memorials of its being; they have no
+associations, no monuments, no memories; we look on them as we would on
+other hills; things of abstract and natural magnificence, which the
+presence of man could not increase, nor his departure sadden. They are,
+in consequence, destitute of all that renders the name of Ausonia
+thrilling, or her champaigns beautiful, beyond the mere splendor of
+climate; and even that splendor is unshared by the mountain; its cold
+atmosphere being undistinguished by any of that rich, purple, ethereal
+transparency which gives the air of the plains its <i>depth of
+feeling</i>,&mdash;we can find no better expression.
+</p><p>
+Secondly. In all hill scenery, though there is increase of size, there
+is want of distance. We are not speaking of views from summits, but of
+the average aspect of valleys. Suppose the mountains be 10,000 feet
+high, their summit will not be more than six miles distant in a direct
+line: and there is a general sense of confinement, induced by their
+wall-like boundaries, which is painful, contrasted with the wide
+expatiation of spirit induced by a distant view over plains. In ordinary
+countries, however, where the plain is an uninteresting mass of
+cultivation, the sublimity of distance is not to be compared to that of
+size: but, where every yard of the cultivated country has its tale to
+tell; where it is perpetually intersected by rivers whose names are
+meaning music, and glancing with cities and villages every one of which
+has its own halo round its head; and where the eye is carried by the
+clearness of the air over the blue of the farthest horizon, without
+finding one wreath of mist, or one shadowy cloud, to check the
+distinctness of the impression; the mental emotions excited are richer,
+and deeper, and swifter than could be awakened by the noblest hills of
+the earth, unconnected with the deeds of men.
+</p><p>
+Lastly. The plain country of Italy has not even to choose between the
+glory of distance and of size, for it has both. I do not think there is
+a spot, from Venice to Messina, where two ranges of mountain, at the
+least, are not in sight at the same time. In Lombardy, the Alps are on
+one side, the Apennines on the other; in the Venetian territory, the
+Alps, Apennines and Euganean hills; going southward, the Apennines
+always, their outworks running far towards the sea, and the coast itself
+frequently mountainous. Now, the aspect of a noble range of hills, at a
+considerable distance, is, in our opinion, far more imposing (considered
+in the abstract) than they are, seen near: their height is better told,
+their outlines softer and more melodious, their majesty more mysterious.
+But, in Italy, they gain more by distance than majesty: they gain life.
+They cease to be the cold forgetful things they were; they hold the
+noble plains in their lap, and become venerable, as having looked down
+upon them, and watched over them forever, unchanging; they become part
+of the picture of associations: we endow them with memory, and then feel
+them to be possessed of all that is glorious on earth.
+</p><p>
+For these three reasons, then, the plains of Italy possess far more
+elevation of character than her hill scenery. To the northward, this
+contrast is felt very strikingly, as the distinction is well marked, the
+Alps rising sharply and suddenly. To the southward, the plain is more
+mingled with low projecting promontories, and unites almost every kind
+of beauty. However, even among her northern lakes, the richness of the
+low climate, and the magnificence of form and color presented by the
+distant Alps, raise the character of the scene immeasurably above that
+of most hill landscapes, even were those natural features entirely
+unassisted by associations which, though more sparingly scattered than
+in the south, are sufficient to give light to every leaf, and voice to
+every wave.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> There are two kinds of winter avalanches; the one, sheets
+of frozen snow sliding on the surface of others. The swiftness of these,
+as the clavendier of the Convent of St. Bernard told me, he could
+compare to nothing but that of a cannon ball of equal size. The other is
+a rolling mass of snow, accumulating in its descent. This, grazing the
+bare hill-side, tears up its surface like dust, bringing away soil,
+rock, and vegetation, as a grazing ball tears flesh; and leaving its
+withered path distinct on the green hill-side, as if the mountain had
+been branded with red-hot iron. They generally keep to the same paths;
+but when the snow accumulates, and sends one down the wrong way, it has
+been known to cut down a pine forest, as a scythe mows grass. The tale
+of its work is well told by the seared and branded marks on the hill
+summits and sides.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> [Villa Serbelloni, now the d&eacute;pendence of the H&ocirc;tel Grande
+Bretagne at Bellaggio, and Villa Somma-Riva, now called Villa Carlotta,
+at Cadenabbia, and visited by every tourist for its collection of modern
+statuary, are both too well known to need illustration by the very poor
+wood-cuts which accompanied this chapter in the "Architectural
+Magazine." The original drawings are lost; judging from that of the
+cottage in Val d'Aosta we may safely believe that they were most
+inadequately represented by the old cuts.]</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="II" id="II"></a>II.</h3>
+
+<h2>THE MOUNTAIN VILLA&mdash;LAGO DI COMO (Continued).</h2>
+
+
+<p>113. Having considered the propriety of the approach, it remains for us
+to investigate the nature of the feelings excited by the villas of the
+Lago di Como in particular, and of Italy in general.</p>
+
+<p>We mentioned that the bases of the mountains bordering the Lake of Como
+were chiefly composed of black marble; black, at least, when polished,
+and very dark gray in its general effect. This is very finely stratified
+in beds varying in thickness from an inch to two or three feet; and
+these beds, taken of a medium thickness, form flat slabs, easily broken
+into rectangular fragments, which, being excessively compact in their
+grain, are admirably adapted for a building material. There is a little
+pale limestone<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> among the hills to the south; but this marble, or
+primitive limestone (for it is not highly crystalline), is not only more
+easy of access, but a more durable stone. Of this, consequently, almost
+all the buildings on the lake shore are built; and, therefore, were
+their material unconcealed, would be of a dark monotonous and melancholy
+gray tint, equally uninteresting to the eye, and depressing to the mind.
+To prevent this result, they are covered with dif<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>ferent compositions,
+sometimes white, more frequently cream-colored, and of varying depth;
+the moldings and pilasters being frequently of deeper tones than the
+walls. The insides of the grottoes, however, when not cut in the rock
+itself, are left uncovered, thus forming a strong contrast with the
+whiteness outside; giving great depth, and permitting weeds and flowers
+to root themselves on the roughnesses, and rock streams to distill
+through the fissures of the dark stones; while all parts of the building
+to which the eye is drawn, by their form or details (except the capitals
+of the pilasters), such as the urns, the statues, the steps, or
+balustrades, are executed in very fine white marble, generally from the
+quarries of Carrara, which supply quantities of fragments of the finest
+quality, which nevertheless, owing to their want of size, or to the
+presence of conspicuous veins, are unavailable for the higher purposes
+of sculpture.</p>
+
+<p>114. Now, the first question is, is this very pale color desirable? It
+is to be hoped so, or else the whole of Italy must be pronounced full of
+impropriety. The first circumstance in its favor is one which, though
+connected only with lake scenery, we shall notice at length, as it is a
+point of high importance in our own country. When a small piece of quiet
+water reposes in a valley, or lies embosomed among crags, its chief
+beauty is derived from our perception of crystalline depth, united with
+excessive slumber. In its limited surface we cannot get the sublimity of
+extent, but we may have the beauty of peace, and the majesty of depth.
+The object must therefore be, to get the eye off its surface, and to
+draw it down, to beguile it into that fairy land underneath, which is
+more beautiful than what it repeats, because it is all full of dreams
+unattainable, and illimitable. This can only be done by keeping its edge
+out of sight, and guiding the eye off the land into the reflection, as
+if it were passing into a mist, until it finds itself swimming into the
+blue sky, with a thrill of unfathomable falling. (If there be not a
+touch of sky at the bottom, the water will be disagreeably black, and
+the clearer the more fearful.) Now, one touch of <i>white</i> reflection<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> of
+an object at the edge will destroy the whole illusion, for it will come
+like the flash of light on armor, and will show the surface, not the
+depth: it will tell the eye whereabouts it is; will define the limit of
+the edge; and will turn the dream of limitless depth into a small,
+uninteresting, reposeless piece of water. In all small lakes or pools,
+therefore, steep borders of dark crag, or of thick foliage, are to be
+obtained, if possible; even a shingly shore will spoil them: and this
+was one reason, it will be remembered for our admiration of the color of
+the Westmoreland cottage, because it never broke the repose of water by
+its reflection.</p>
+
+<p>115. But this principle applies only to small pieces of water, on which
+we look down, as much as along the surface. As soon as we get a sheet,
+even if only a mile across, we lose depth; first, because it is almost
+impossible to get the surface without a breeze on some part of it; and,
+again, because we look along it, and get a great deal of sky in the
+reflection, which, when occupying too much space, tells as mere flat
+light. But we may have the beauty of extent in a very high degree; and
+it is therefore desirable to know how far the water goes, that we may
+have a clear conception of its space. Now, its border, at a great
+distance, is always lost, unless it be defined by a very distinct line;
+and such a line is harsh, flat, and cutting on the eye. To avoid this,
+the border itself should be dark, as in the other case, so that there
+may be no continuous horizontal line of demarcation; but one or two
+bright white objects should be set here and there along or near the
+edge: their reflections will flash on the dark water, and will inform
+the eye in a moment of the whole distance and transparency of the
+surface it is traversing. When there is a slight swell on the water,
+they will come down in long, beautiful, perpendicular lines, mingling
+exquisitely with the streaky green of reflected foliage; when there is
+none, they become a distant image of the object they repeat, endowed
+with infinite repose.</p>
+
+<p>116. These remarks, true of small lakes whose edges are green, apply
+with far greater force to sheets of water on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> which the eye passes over
+ten or twenty miles in one long glance, and the prevailing color of
+whose borders is, as we noticed when speaking of the Italian cottage,
+blue. The white reflections are here excessively valuable, giving space,
+brilliancy, and transparency; and furnish one very powerful apology,
+even did other objections render an apology necessary, for the pale tone
+of the color of the villas, whose reflections, owing to their size and
+conspicuous situations, always take a considerable part in the scene,
+and are therefore things to be attentively considered in the erection of
+such buildings, particularly in a climate whose calmness renders its
+lakes quiet for the greater part of the day. Nothing, in fact, can be
+more beautiful than the intermingling of these bright lines with the
+darkness of the reversed cypresses seen against the deep azure of the
+distant hills in the crystalline waters of the lake, of which some one
+aptly says, "Deep within its azure rest, white villages sleep
+silently;"<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> or than their columnar perspective, as village after
+village catches the light, and strikes the image to the very quietest
+recess of the narrow water, and the very farthest hollow of the folded
+hills.</p>
+
+<p>117. From all this, it appears that the effect of the white villa in
+water is delightful. On land it is quite as important, but more
+doubtful. The first objection, which strikes us instantly when we
+<i>imagine</i> such a building, is the want of repose, the startling glare of
+effect, induced by its unsubdued tint. But this objection does not
+strike us when we <i>see</i> the building; a circumstance which was partly
+accounted for before, in speaking of the cottage, and which we shall
+presently see farther cause not to be surprised at. A more important
+objection is, that such whiteness destroys a great deal of venerable
+character, and harmonizes ill with the melancholy tones of surrounding
+landscape: and this requires detailed consideration.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>118. Paleness of color destroys the majesty of a building; first, by
+hinting at a disguised and humble material; and, secondly, by taking
+away all appearance of age. We shall speak of the effect of the material
+presently; but the deprivation of apparent antiquity is dependent in a
+great degree on the color; and in Italy, where, as we saw before,
+everything ought to point to the past, is serious injury, though, for
+several reasons, not so fatal as might be imagined; for we do not
+require, in a building raised as a light summer-house, wherein to while
+away a few pleasure hours, the evidence of ancestral dignity, without
+which the ch&acirc;teau or palace can possess hardly any beauty. We know that
+it is originally built more as a plaything than as a monument; as the
+delight of an individual, not the possession of a race; and that the
+very lightness and carelessness of feeling with which such a domicile is
+entered and inhabited by its first builder would demand, to sympathize
+and keep in unison with them, not the kind of building adapted to excite
+the veneration of ages, but that which can most gayly minister to the
+amusement of hours. For all men desire to have memorials of their
+actions, but none of their recreations; inasmuch as we only wish that to
+be remembered which others will not, or cannot perform or experience;
+and we know that all men can enjoy recreation as much as ourselves. We
+wish succeeding generations to admire our energy, but not even to be
+aware of our lassitude; to know when we moved, but not when we rested;
+how we ruled, not how we condescended; and, therefore, in the case of
+the triumphal arch, or the hereditary palace, if we are the builders, we
+desire stability; if the beholders, we are offended with novelty: but in
+the case of the villa, the builder desires only a correspondence with
+his humor; the beholder, evidence of such correspondence; for he feels
+that the villa is most beautiful when it ministers most to pleasure;
+that it cannot minister to pleasure without perpetual change, so as to
+suit the varying ideas, and humors, and imaginations of its inhabitant,
+and that it cannot possess this light and variable habit with any
+appearance of antiquity.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>119. And, for a yet more important reason, such appearance is not
+desirable. Melancholy, when it is productive of pleasure, is accompanied
+either by loveliness in the object exciting it, or by a feeling of pride
+in the mind experiencing it. Without one of these, it becomes absolute
+pain, which all men throw off as soon as they can, and suffer under as
+long as their minds are too weak for the effort. Now, when it is
+accompanied by loveliness in the object exciting it, it forms beauty;
+when by a feeling of pride, it constitutes the pleasure we experience in
+tragedy, when we have the pride of endurance, or in contemplating the
+ruin, or the monument, by which we are informed or reminded of the pride
+of the past. Hence, it appears that age is beautiful only when it is the
+decay of glory or of power, and memory only delightful when it reposes
+upon pride.<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> All remains therefore of what was merely devoted to
+pleasure; all evidence of lost enjoyment; all memorials of the
+recreation and rest of the departed; in a word, all desolation of
+delight is productive of mere pain, for there is no feeling of
+exultation connected with it. Thus, in any ancient habitation, we pass
+with reverence and pleasurable emotion through the ordered armory, where
+the lances lie, with none to wield; through the lofty hall, where the
+crested scutcheons glow with the honor of the dead: but we turn sickly
+away from the arbor which has no hand to tend it, and the boudoir which
+has no life to lighten it, and the smooth sward which has no light feet
+to dance on it. So it is in the villa: the more memory, the more sorrow;
+and, therefore, the less adaptation to its present purpose. But, though
+cheerful, it should be ethereal in its expression: "spiritual" is a good
+word, giving ideas of the very highest order of delight that can be
+obtained in the mere present.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p><p>120. It seems, then, that for all these reasons an appearance of age is
+not desirable, far less necessary, in the villa; but its existing
+character must be in unison with its country; and it must appear to be
+inhabited by one brought up in that country, and imbued with its
+national feelings. In Italy, especially, though we can even here
+dispense with one component part of elevation of character,&mdash;age, we
+must have all the others: we must have high feeling, beauty of form, and
+depth of effect, or the thing will be a barbarism; the inhabitant must
+be an Italian, full of imagination and emotion: a villa inhabited by an
+Englishman, no matter how close its imitation of others, will always be
+preposterous.</p>
+
+<p>We find, therefore, that white is not to be blamed in the villa for
+destroying its antiquity; neither is it reprehensible, as harmonizing
+ill with the surrounding landscape: on the contrary, it adds to its
+brilliancy, without taking away from its depth of tone. We shall
+consider it as an element of landscape, more particularly, when we come
+to speak of grouping.</p>
+
+<p>121. There remains only one accusation to be answered; viz., that it
+hints at a paltry and unsubstantial material: and this leads us to the
+second question. Is this material allowable? If it were distinctly felt
+by the eye to be stucco, there could be no question about the matter, it
+would be decidedly disagreeable; but all the parts to which the eye is
+attracted are executed in marble, and the stucco merely forms the dead
+flat of the building, not a single wreath of ornament being formed of
+it. Its surface is smooth and bright, and altogether avoids what a stone
+building, when not built of large masses, and uncharged with ornament,
+always forces upon the attention, the rectangular lines of the blocks,
+which, however nicely fitted they may be, are "horrible! most horrible!"
+There is also a great deal of ease and softness in the angular lines of
+the stucco, which are never sharp or harsh, like those of stone; and it
+receives shadows with great beauty, a point of infinite importance in
+this climate; giving them lightness and transparency, without any
+diminution of depth.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> It is also agreeable to the eye, to pass from the
+sharp carving of the marble decorations to the ease and smoothness of
+the stucco; while the utter want of interest in those parts which are
+executed in it prevents the humility of the material from being
+offensive: for this passage of the eye from the marble to the
+composition is managed with the dexterity of the artist, who, that the
+attention may be drawn to the single point of the picture which is his
+subject, leaves the rest so obscured and slightly painted, that the mind
+loses it altogether in its attention to the principal feature.</p>
+
+<p>122. With all, however, that can be alleged in extenuation of its
+faults, it cannot be denied that the stucco <i>does</i> take away so much of
+the dignity of the building, that, unless we find enough bestowed by its
+form and details to counterbalance, and a great deal more than
+counterbalance, the deterioration occasioned by tone and material, the
+whole edifice must be condemned, as incongruous with the spirit of the
+climate, and even with the character of its own gardens and approach. It
+remains, therefore, to notice the details themselves. Its form is simple
+to a degree; the roof generally quite flat, so as to leave the mass in
+the form of a parallelopiped, in general without wings or adjuncts of
+any sort. Villa Somma-Riva [Carlotta] is a good example of this general
+form and proportion, though it has an arched passage on each side, which
+takes away from its massiness. This excessive weight of effect would be
+injurious, if the building were set by itself; but, as it always forms
+the apex of a series of complicated terraces, it both relieves them and
+gains great dignity by its own unbroken simplicity of size. This general
+effect of form is not injured, when, as is often the case, an open
+passage is left in the center of the building, under tall and
+well-proportioned arches, supported by pilasters (never by columns).
+Villa Porro, Lago di Como, is a good example of this method. The arches
+hardly ever exceed three in number, and these are all of the same size,
+so that the crowns of the arches continue the horizontal lines of the
+rest of the building. Were the center one higher than the others, these<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>
+lines would be interrupted, and a great deal of simplicity lost. The
+covered space under these arches is a delightful, shaded, and breezy
+retreat in the heat of the day; and the entrance doors usually open into
+it, so that a current of cool air is obtainable by throwing them open.</p>
+
+<p>123. The building itself consists of three floors: we remember no
+instance of a greater number, and only one or two of fewer. It is, in
+general, crowned with a light balustrade, surmounted by statues at
+intervals. The windows of the uppermost floor are usually square, often
+without any architrave. Those of the principal floor are surrounded with
+broad architraves, but are frequently destitute of frieze or cornice.
+They have usually flat bands at the bottom, and their aperture is a
+double square. Their recess is very deep, so as not to let the sun fall
+far into the interior. The interval between them is very variable. In
+some of the villas of highest pretensions, such as those on the banks of
+the Brenta, that of Isola Bella, and others, which do not face the
+south, it is not much more than the breadth of the two architraves, so
+that the rooms within are filled with light. When this is the case, the
+windows have friezes and cornices. But, when the building fronts the
+south, the interval is often very great, as in the case of the Villa
+Porro. The ground-floor windows are frequently set in tall arches,
+supported on deeply engaged pilasters as in the Villa Somma-Riva. The
+door is not large, and never entered by high steps, as it generally
+opens on a terrace of considerable height, or on a wide landing-place at
+the head of a flight of fifty or sixty steps descending through the
+gardens.</p>
+
+<p>124. Now, it will be observed, that, in these general forms, though
+there is no splendor, there is great dignity. The lines throughout are
+simple to a degree, entirely uninterrupted by decorations of any kind,
+so that the beauty of their proportions is left visible and evident. We
+shall see hereafter that ornament in Grecian architecture, while, when
+well managed, it always adds to its grace, invariably takes away from
+its majesty; and that these two attributes never can exist to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>gether in
+their highest degrees. By the utter absence of decoration, therefore,
+the Italian villa, possessing, as it usually does, great beauty of
+proportion, attains a degree of elevation of character, which impresses
+the mind in a manner which it finds difficult to account for by any
+consideration of its simple details or moderate size; while, at the same
+time, it lays so little claim to the attention, and is so subdued in its
+character, that it is enabled to occupy a conspicuous place in a
+landscape, without any appearance of intrusion. The glance of the
+beholder rises from the labyrinth of terrace and arbor beneath, almost
+weariedly; it meets, as it ascends, with a gradual increase of bright
+marble and simple light, and with a proportionate diminution of dark
+foliage and complicated shadow, till it rests finally on a piece of
+simple brilliancy, chaste and unpretending, yet singularly dignified;
+and does not find its color too harsh, because its form is so simple:
+for color of any kind is only injurious when the eye is too much
+attracted to it; and, when there is so much quietness of detail as to
+prevent this misfortune, the building will possess the cheerfulness,
+without losing the tranquillity, and will seem to have been erected, and
+to be inhabited, by a mind of that beautiful temperament wherein modesty
+tempers majesty, and gentleness mingles with rejoicing, which, above all
+others, is most suited to the essence, and most interwoven with the
+spirit, of the natural beauty whose peculiar power is invariably repose.</p>
+
+<p>125. So much for its general character. Considered by principles of
+composition, it will also be found beautiful. Its prevailing lines are
+horizontal; and every artist knows that, where peaks of any kind are in
+sight, the lines above which they rise ought to be flat. It has not one
+acute angle in all its details, and very few intersections of verticals
+with horizontals; while all that do intersect seem useful as supporting
+the mass. The just application of the statues at the top is more
+doubtful, and is considered reprehensible by several high authorities,
+who, nevertheless, are inconsistent enough to let the balustrade pass
+uncalumniated, though it is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> objectionable on exactly the same grounds;
+for, if the statues suggest the inquiry of "What are they doing there?"
+the balustrade compels its beholder to ask, "whom it keeps from tumbling
+over?"</p>
+
+<p>126. The truth is, that the balustrade and statues derive their origin
+from a period when there was easy access to the roof of either temple or
+villa; (that there was such access is proved by a passage in the
+<i>Iphigenia Taurica</i>, line 113, where Orestes speaks of getting up to the
+triglyphs of a Doric temple as an easy matter;) and when the flat roofs
+were used, not, perhaps, as an evening promenade, as in Palestine, but
+as a place of observation, and occasionally of defense. They were
+composed of large flat slabs of stone (<span class="greek" title="keramos">&#954;&#949;&#961;&#945;&#956;&#959;&#962;</span>,<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a>) peculiarly
+adapted for walking, one or two of which, when taken up, left an opening
+of easy access into the house, as in Luke v. 19, and were perpetually
+used in Greece as missile weapons, in the event of a hostile attack or
+sedition in the city, by parties of old men, women, and children, who
+used, as a matter of course, to retire to the roof as a place of
+convenient defense. By such attacks from the roof with the <span class="greek" title="keramos">&#954;&#949;&#961;&#945;&#956;&#959;&#962;</span>
+the Thebans were thrown into confusion in Plat&aelig;a (<i>Thucydides</i>
+ii. 4.). So, also, we find the roof immediately resorted to in the case
+of the starving of Pausanias in the Temple of Minerva of the Brazen
+House, and in that of the massacre of the aristocratic party at Corcyra
+(<i>Thucydides</i> iv. 48):&mdash;<span class="greek" title="Anabantes de epi to tegos tou oik&ecirc;matos, kai dielontes t&ecirc;n oroph&ecirc;n, eballon t&ocirc; keram&ocirc;">&#913;&#957;&#945;&#946;&#945;&#957;&#964;&#949;&#962;
+&#948;&#949; &#949;&#960;&#953; &#964;&#959; &#964;&#949;&#947;&#959;&#962; &#964;&#959;&#965; &#959;&#953;&#954;&#951;&#956;&#945;&#964;&#959;&#962;, &#954;&#945;&#953; &#948;&#953;&#949;&#955;&#959;&#957;&#964;&#949;&#962; &#964;&#951;&#957;
+&#959;&#961;&#959;&#966;&#951;&#957;, &#949;&#946;&#945;&#955;&#955;&#959;&#957; &#964;&#969; &#954;&#949;&#961;&#945;&#956;&#969;</span>.</p>
+
+<p>127. Now, where the roof was thus a place of frequent resort, there
+could be no more useful decoration than a balustrade; nor one more
+appropriate or beautiful than occasional statues in attitudes of
+watchfulness, expectation, or observa<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>tion: and even now, wherever the
+roof is flat, we have an idea of convenience and facility of access,
+which still renders the balustrade agreeable, and the statue beautiful,
+if well designed. It must not be a figure of perfect peace or repose;
+far less should it be in violent action: but it should be fixed in that
+quick, startled stillness, which is the result of intent observation or
+expectation, and which seems ready to start into motion every instant.
+Its height should be slightly colossal, as it is always to be seen
+against the sky; and its draperies should not be too heavy, as the eye
+will always expect them to be caught by the wind. We shall enter into
+this subject, however, more fully hereafter. We only wish at present to
+vindicate from the charge of impropriety one of the chief features of
+the Italian villa. Its white figures, always marble, remain entirely
+unsullied by the weather, and stand out with great majesty against the
+blue air behind them, taking away from the heaviness, without destroying
+the simplicity, of the general form.</p>
+
+<p>128. It seems then that, by its form and details, the villa of the Lago
+di Como attains so high a degree of elevation of character, as not only
+brings it into harmony of its <i>locus</i>, without any assistance from
+appearance of antiquity, but may, we think, permit it to dispense even
+with solidity of material, and appear in light summer stucco, instead of
+raising itself in imperishable marble. And this conclusion, which is
+merely theoretical, is verified by fact: for we remember no instance,
+except in cases where poverty had overpowered pretension, or decay had
+turned rejoicing into silence, in which the lightness of the material
+was offensive to the feelings; in all cases, it is agreeable to the eye.
+Where it is allowed to get worn, and discolored, and broken, it induces
+a wretched mockery of the dignified form which it preserves; but, as
+long as it is renewed at proper periods, and watched over by the eye of
+its inhabitant, it is an excellent and easily managed medium of effect.</p>
+
+<p>129. With all the praise, however, which we have bestowed upon it, we do
+not say that the villa of the Larian Lake is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> perfection; indeed we
+cannot say so, until we have compared it with a few other instances,
+chiefly to be found in Italy, on whose soil we delay, as being the
+native country of the villa, properly so-called, and as ever yet being
+almost the only spot of Europe where any good specimens of it are to be
+found; for we do not understand by the term "villa" a cubic erection,
+with one window on each side of a verdant door, and three on the second
+and uppermost story, such as the word suggests to the fertile
+imagination of ruralizing cheesemongers; neither do we understand the
+quiet and unpretending country house of a respectable gentleman; neither
+do we understand such a magnificent mass of hereditary stone as
+generally forms the autumn retreat of an English noble; but we
+understand the light but elaborate summer habitation, raised however and
+wherever it pleases his fancy, by some individual of great wealth and
+influence, who can enrich it with every attribute of beauty; furnish it
+with every appurtenance of pleasure; and repose in it with the dignity
+of a mind trained to exertion or authority. Such a building could not
+exist in Greece, where every district a mile and a quarter square was
+quarreling with all its neighbors. It could exist, and did exist, in
+Italy, where the Roman power secured tranquillity, and the Roman
+constitution distributed its authority among a great number of
+individuals, on whom, while it raised them to a position of great
+influence, and, in its later times, of wealth, it did not bestow the
+power of raising palaces or private fortresses. The villa was their
+peculiar habitation, their only resource, and a most agreeable one;
+because the multitudes of the kingdom being, for a long period, confined
+to a narrow territory, though ruling the world, rendered the population
+of the city so dense, as to drive out its higher ranks to the
+neighboring hamlets of Tibur and Tusculum.</p>
+
+<p>130. In other districts of Europe the villa is not found, because in
+very perfect monarchies, as in Austria, the power is thrown chiefly into
+the hands of a few, who build themselves palaces, not villas; and in
+perfect republics, as in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> Switzerland, the power is so split among the
+multitude, that nobody can build himself anything. In general, in
+kingdoms of great extent, the country house becomes the permanent and
+hereditary habitation; and the villas are all crowded together, and form
+gingerbread rows in the environs of the capital; and, in France and
+Germany, the excessively disturbed state of affairs in the Middle Ages
+compelled every baron or noble to defend himself, and retaliate on his
+neighbors as he best could, till the villa was lost in the ch&acirc;teau and
+the fortress; and men now continue to build as their forefathers built
+(and long may they do so), surrounding the domicile of pleasure with a
+moat and a glacis, and guarding its garret windows with turrets and
+towers: while, in England, the nobles, comparatively few, and of great
+power, inhabit palaces, not villas; and the rest of the population is
+chiefly crowded into cities, in the activity of commerce, or dispersed
+over estates in that of agriculture; leaving only one grade of gentry,
+who have neither the taste to desire, nor the power to erect, the villa,
+properly so-called.</p>
+
+<p>131. We must not, therefore, be surprised if, on leaving Italy, where
+the crowd of poverty-stricken nobility can still repose their pride in
+the true villa, we find no farther examples of it worthy of
+consideration; though we hope to have far greater pleasure in
+contemplating its substitutes, the ch&acirc;teau and the fortress. We must be
+excused, therefore, for devoting one paper more to the state of villa
+architecture in Italy; after which we shall endeavor to apply the
+principles we shall have deduced to the correction of some abuses in the
+erection of English country houses, in cases where scenery would demand
+beauty of design and wealth permit finish of decoration.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes">
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> Pale limestone, with dolomite. A coarse dolomite forms the
+mass of mountains on the east of Lake Lecco, Monte Campione, etc., and
+part of the other side, as well as the Monte del Novo, above Cadenabbia;
+but the bases of the hills, along the <i>shore</i> of the Lake of Lecco, and
+all the mountains on both sides of the lower limb of Como are black
+limestone. The whole northern half of the lake is bordered by gneiss or
+mica slate, with tertiary deposit where torrents enter it. So that the
+dolomite is only obtainable by ascending the hills, and incurring
+considerable expense of carriage; while the rocks of the shore split
+into blocks of their own accord, and are otherwise an excellent
+material.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> [A reminiscence of two lines from a poem on the "Lago di
+Como" written by the author in 1833.]</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> Observe, we are not speaking of emotions felt on
+remembering what we ourselves have enjoyed, for then the imagination is
+productive of pleasure by replacing us in enjoyment, but of the feelings
+excited in the <i>indifferent</i> spectator, by the evident decay of power or
+desolation of enjoyment, of which the first ennobles, the other only
+harrows, the spirit.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> In the large buildings, that is: <span class="greek" title="keramos">&#954;&#949;&#961;&#945;&#956;&#959;&#962;</span> also
+signifies earthen tiling, and sometimes earthenware in general, as in
+<i>Herodotus</i> iii. 6 [where it is used of earthen jars of wine.] It
+appears that such tiling was frequently used in smaller edifices. The
+Greeks may have derived their flat roofs from Egypt. Herodotus mentions
+of the Labyrinth of the Twelve Kings, that <span class="greek" title="horoph&ecirc; de pant&ocirc;n tout&ocirc;n lithin&ecirc;">&#8001;&#961;&#959;&#966;&#951;
+&#948;&#949; &#960;&#945;&#957;&#964;&#969;&#957; &#964;&#959;&#965;&#964;&#969;&#957; &#955;&#953;&#952;&#953;&#957;&#951;</span>, but not as if the circumstance were in the least
+extraordinary [<i>Herodotus</i> ii. 148.]</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="III" id="III"></a>III.</h3>
+
+<h2>THE ITALIAN VILLA (Concluded).</h2>
+
+
+<p>132. We do not think there is any truth in the aphorism, now so
+frequently advanced in England, that the adaptation of shelter to the
+corporal comfort of the human race is the original and true end of the
+art of architecture, properly so-called: for, were such the case, he
+would be the most distinguished architect who was best acquainted with
+the properties of cement, with the nature of stone, and the various
+durability of wood. That such knowledge is necessary to the perfect
+architect we do not deny; but it is no more the end and purpose of his
+application, than a knowledge of the alphabet is the object of the
+refined scholar, or of rhythm of the inspired poet.</p>
+
+<p>133. For, supposing that we were for a moment to consider that we built
+a house <i>merely</i> to be lived in, and that the whole bent of our
+invention, in raising the edifice, is to be directed to the provision of
+comfort for the life to be spent therein; supposing that we build it
+with the most perfect dryness and coolness of cellar, the most luxurious
+appurtenances of pantry; that we build our walls with the most compacted
+strength of material, the most studied economy of space; that we leave
+not a chink in the floor for a breath of wind to pass through, not a
+hinge in the door, which, by any possible exertion of its irritable
+muscles, could creak; that we elevate our chambers into exquisite
+coolness, furnish them with every attention to the maintenance of
+general health, as well as the prevention of present inconvenience: to
+do all this, we must be possessed of great knowledge and various skill;
+let this knowledge and skill be applied with the greatest energy, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>
+what have they done? Exactly as much as brute animals can do by mere
+instinct; nothing more than bees and beavers, moles and magpies, ants
+and earwigs, do every day of their lives, without the slightest effort
+of reason; we have made ourselves superior as architects to the most
+degraded animation of the universe, only insomuch as we have lavished
+the highest efforts of intellect, to do what they have done with the
+most limited sensations that can constitute life.</p>
+
+<p>134. The mere preparation of convenience, therefore, is not architecture
+in which man can take pride, or ought to take delight;<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> but the high
+and ennobling art of architecture is that of giving to buildings, whose
+parts are determined by necessity, such forms and colors as shall
+delight the mind, by preparing it for the operations to which it is to
+be subjected in the building: and thus, as it is altogether to the mind
+that the work of the architect is addressed, it is not as a part of his
+art, but as a limitation of its extent, that he must be acquainted with
+the minor principles of the economy of domestic erections. For this
+reason, though we shall notice every class of edifice, it does not come
+within our proposed plan, to enter into any detailed consideration of
+the inferior buildings of each class, which afford no scope for the play
+of the imagination by their nature or size; but we shall generally
+select the most perfect and beautiful examples, as those in which alone
+the architect has the power of fulfilling the high purposes of his art.
+In the villa, however, some exception must be made, inasmuch as it will
+be useful, and perhaps interesting, to arrive at some fixed conclusions
+respecting the modern buildings, improperly called villas, raised by
+moderate wealth, and of limited size, in which the architect is
+compelled to produce his effect without extent or decoration. The
+principles which we have hitherto arrived at, deduced as they are from
+edifices of the noblest character, will be but of little use to a
+country gentleman, about to insinuate himself and his habitation into a
+quiet corner of our lovely country; and, therefore, we must glance at
+the more humble homes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> of the Italian, preparatory to the consideration
+of what will best suit our own less elevated scenery.</p>
+
+<p>135. First, then, we lose the terraced approach, or, at least, its size
+and splendor, as these require great wealth to erect them, and perpetual
+expense to preserve them. For the chain of terraces we find substituted
+a simple garden, somewhat formally laid out; but redeemed from the
+charge of meanness by the nobility and size attained by most of its
+trees; the line of immense cypresses which generally surrounds it in
+part, and the luxuriance of the vegetation of its flowering shrubs. It
+has frequently a large entrance gate, well designed, but carelessly
+executed; sometimes singularly adorned with fragments of ancient
+sculpture, regularly introduced, which the spectator partly laments, as
+preserved in a mode so incongruous with their ancient meaning, and
+partly rejoices over, as preserved at all. The grottoes of the superior
+garden are here replaced by light ranges of arched summerhouses,
+designed in stucco, and occasionally adorned in their interior with
+fresco paintings of considerable brightness and beauty.</p>
+
+<p>136. All this, however, has very little effect in introducing the eye to
+the villa itself, owing to the general want of inequality of level in
+the ground, so that the main building becomes an independent feature,
+instead of forming the apex of a mass of various architecture.
+Consequently, the weight of form which in the former case it might, and
+even ought to, possess, would here be cumbrous, ugly, and improper; and
+accordingly we find it got rid of. This is done, first by the addition
+of the square tower, a feature which is not allowed to break in upon the
+symmetry of buildings of high architectural pretensions; but is
+immediately introduced, whenever less richness of detail, or variety of
+approach, demands or admits of irregularity of form. It is a constant
+and most important feature in Italian landscape; sometimes high and
+apparently detached, as when it belongs to sacred edifices; sometimes
+low and strong, united with the mass of the fortress, or varying the
+form of the villa. It is always simple in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> its design, flat-roofed, its
+corners being turned by very slightly projecting pilasters, which are
+carried up the whole height of the tower, whatever it may be, without
+any regard to proportion, terminating in two arches on each side, in the
+villa most frequently filled up, though their curve is still
+distinguished by darker tint and slight relief. Two black holes on each
+side, near the top, are very often the only entrances by which light or
+sun can penetrate. These are seldom actually large, always
+proportionably small, and destitute of ornament or relief.</p>
+
+<p>137. The forms of the villas to which these towers are attached are
+straggling, and varied by many crossing masses; but the great principle
+of simplicity is always kept in view; everything is square, and
+terminated by parallel lines; no tall chimneys, no conical roofs, no
+fantastic ornaments are ever admitted: the arch alone is allowed to
+relieve the stiffness of the general effect. This is introduced
+frequently, but not in the windows, which are either squares or double
+squares, at great distances from each other, set deeply into the walls
+and only adorned with broad flat borders. Where more light is required
+they are set moderately close, and protected by an outer line of arches,
+deep enough to keep the noonday sun from entering the rooms. These lines
+of arches cast soft shadows along the bright fronts, and are otherwise
+of great value. Their effect is pretty well seen in fig. 10; a piece
+which, while it has no distinguished beauty is yet pleasing by its
+entire simplicity; and peculiarly so, when we know that simplicity to
+have been chosen (some say, built) for its last and lonely habitation,
+by a mind of softest passion as of purest thought; and to have sheltered
+its silent old age among the blue and quiet hills, till it passed away
+like a deep lost melody from the earth, leaving a light of peace about
+the gray tomb at which the steps of those who pass by always falter, and
+around this deserted, and decaying, and calm habitation of the thoughts
+of the departed; Petrarch's, at Arqu&agrave;. A more familiar instance of the
+application of these arches is the Villa of Mec&aelig;nas at Tivoli, though it
+is improperly styled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> a villa, being pretty well known to have been
+nothing but stables.</p>
+
+<p>138. The buttress is the only remaining point worthy of notice. It
+prevails to a considerable extent among the villas of the south, being
+always broad and tall, and occasionally so frequent as to give the
+building, viewed laterally, a pyramidal and cumbrous effect. The most
+usual form is that of a simple sloped mass, terminating in the wall,
+without the slightest finishing, and rising at an angle of about 84&deg;.
+Sometimes it is perpendicular, sloped at the top into the wall; but it
+never has steps of increasing projection as it goes down. By observing
+the occurrence of these buttresses, an architect, who knew nothing of
+geology, might accurately determine the points of most energetic
+volcanic action in Italy; for their use is to protect the building from
+the injuries of earthquakes, the Italian having far too much good taste
+to use them, except in cases of extreme necessity. Thus, they are never
+found in North Italy, even in the fortresses. They begin to occur among
+the Apennines, south of Florence; they become more and more frequent and
+massy towards Rome; in the neighborhood of Naples they are huge and
+multitudinous, even the walls themselves being sometimes sloped; and the
+same state of things continues as we go south, on the coast of Calabria
+and Sicily.</p>
+
+<p>139. Now, these buttresses present one of the most extraordinary and
+striking instances of the beauty of adaptation of style to locality and
+peculiarity of circumstance, that can be met with in the whole range of
+architectural investigation. Taken in the abstract, they are utterly
+detestable, formal, clumsy, and apparently unnecessary. Their builder
+thinks so himself: he hates them as things to be looked at, though he
+erects them as things to be depended upon. He has no idea that there is
+any propriety in their presence, though he knows perfectly well that
+there is a great deal of necessity; and, therefore he builds them.
+Where? On rocks whose sides are one mass of buttresses, of precisely the
+same form; on rocks which are cut and cloven by basalt and lava dikes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>
+of every size, and which, being themselves secondary, wear away
+gradually by exposure to the atmosphere, leaving the intersecting dikes
+standing out in solid and vertical walls, from the faces of their
+precipices. The eye passes over heaps of scori&aelig; and sloping banks of
+ashes, over the huge ruins of more ancient masses, till it trembles for
+the fate of the crags still standing round; but it finds them ribbed
+with basalt like bones, buttressed with a thousand lava walls, propped
+upon pedestals and pyramids of iron, which the pant and the pulse of the
+earthquake itself can scarcely move, for they are its own work; it
+climbs up to their summits, and there it finds the work of man; but it
+is no puny domicile, no eggshell imagination, it is in a continuation of
+the mountain itself, inclined at the same slope, ribbed in the same
+manner, protected by the same means against the same danger; not,
+indeed, filling the eye with delight, but, which is of more importance,
+freeing it from fear, and beautifully corresponding with the prevalent
+lines around it, which a less massive form would have rendered, in some
+cases, particularly about Etna, even ghastly. Even in the long and
+luxuriant views from Capo di Monte, and the heights to the east of
+Naples, the spectator looks over a series of volcanic eminences,
+generally, indeed, covered with rich verdure, but starting out here and
+there in gray and worn walls, fixed at a regular slope, and breaking
+away into masses more and more rugged towards Vesuvius, till the eye
+gets thoroughly habituated to their fortress-like outlines.</p>
+
+<p><a name="fig10"></a></p>
+<div class="figright" style="width: 350px;">
+<p><img src="./images/fig10.jpg"
+alt="Fig. 10. Petrarch's Villa; Arqu&agrave;.&mdash;1837." title="Fig. 10. Petrarch's Villa; Arqu&agrave;.&mdash;1837." /></p>
+<p class="caption">Fig. 10. Petrarch's Villa; Arqu&agrave;.&mdash;1837.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>140. Throughout the whole of this broken country, and, on the summits of
+these volcanic cones, rise innumerable villas; but they do not offend
+us, as we should have expected, by their attestation of cheerfulness of
+life amidst the wrecks left by destructive operation, nor hurt the eye
+by non-assimilation with the immediate features of the landscape: but
+they seem to rise prepared and adapted for resistance to, and endurance
+of, the circumstances of their position; to be inhabited by beings of
+energy and force sufficient to decree and to carry on a steady struggle
+with opposing elements, and of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> taste and feeling sufficient to
+proportion the form of the walls of men to the clefts in the flanks of
+the volcano, and to prevent the exultation and the lightness of
+transitory life from startling, like a mockery, the eternal remains of
+disguised desolation.</p>
+
+<p>141. We have always considered these circumstances as most remarkable
+proofs of the perfect dependence of architecture on its situation, and
+of the utter impossibility of judging of the beauty of any building in
+the abstract: and we would also lay much stress upon them, as showing
+with what boldness the designer may introduce into his building,
+undisguised, such parts as local circumstances render desirable; for
+there will invariably be something in the nature of that which causes
+their necessity, which will endow them with beauty.</p>
+
+<p>142. These, then, are the principal features of the Italian villa,
+modifications of which, of course more or less dignified in size,
+material or decoration, in proportion to the power and possessions of
+their proprietor, may be considered as composing every building of that
+class in Italy. A few remarks on their general effect will enable us to
+conclude the subject.</p>
+
+<p><a name="fig11"></a></p>
+<div class="figright" style="width: 250px;">
+<p><img src="./images/fig11.jpg"
+alt="Fig. 11. Broken Curves." title="Fig. 11. Broken Curves." /></p>
+<p class="caption">Fig. 11. Broken Curves.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>143. We have been so long accustomed to see the horizontal lines and
+simple forms which, as we have observed, still prevail among the
+Ausonian villas, used with the greatest dexterity, and the noblest
+effect, in the compositions of Claude, Salvator, and Poussin&mdash;and so
+habituated to consider these compositions as perfect models of the
+beautiful, as well as the pure in taste&mdash;that it is difficult to divest
+ourselves of prejudice, in the contemplation of the sources from which
+those masters received their education, their feelings, and their
+subjects. We would hope, however, and we think it may be proved, that in
+this case principle assists and encourages prejudice. First, referring
+only to the gratification afforded to the eye, which we know to depend
+upon fixed mathematical principles, though those principles are not
+always developed, it is to be observed, that country is always most
+beautiful when it is made up of curves, and that one of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> the chief
+characters of Ausonian landscape is the perfection of its curvatures,
+induced by the gradual undulation of promontories into the plains. In
+suiting architecture to such a country, that building which least
+interrupts the curve on which it is placed will be felt to be most
+delightful to the eye.</p>
+
+<p>144. Let us take then the simple form <i>a b c d</i>, interrupting the curve
+<i>c e</i> [fig. 11, A]. Now, the eye will always continue the principal
+lines of such an object for itself, until they cut the main curve; that
+is, it will carry on <i>a b</i> to <i>e</i>, and the total effect of the
+interruption will be that of the form <i>c d e</i>. Had the line <i>b d</i> been
+nearer to <i>a c</i>, the effect would have been just the same. Now, every
+curve may be considered as composed of an infinite number of lines at
+right angles to each other, as <i>m n</i> is made up of <i>o p, p q</i>, etc.,
+(fig. B), whose ratio to each other varies with the direction of the
+curve. Then, if the right lines which form the curve at <i>c</i> (fig. A) be
+increased, we have the figure <i>c d e</i>, that is, the apparent
+interruption of the curve is an increased part of the curve itself. To
+the mathematical reader we can explain our meaning more clearly, by
+pointing out that, taking <i>c</i> for our origin, we have <i>a c</i>, <i>a e</i>, for
+the co-ordinates of <i>e</i>, and that, therefore, their ratio is the
+equation to the curve. Whence it appears, that, when any curve is broken
+in upon by a building composed of simple vertical and horizontal lines,
+the eye<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> is furnished, by the interruption, with the equation to that
+part of the curve which is interrupted. If, instead of square forms, we
+take obliquity, as <i>r s t</i> (fig. C), we have one line, <i>s t</i>, an
+absolute break, and the other <i>r s</i>, in false proportion. If we take
+another curve, we have an infinite number of lines, only two of which
+are where they ought to be. And this is the true reason for the constant
+introduction of features which appear to be somewhat formal, into the
+most perfect imaginations of the old masters, and the true cause of the
+extreme beauty of the groups formed by Italian villages in general.</p>
+
+<p>145. Thus much for the mere effect on the eye. Of correspondence with
+national character, we have shown that we must not be disappointed, if
+we find little in the villa. The unfrequency of windows in the body of
+the building is partly attributed to the climate; but the total
+exclusion of light from some parts, as the base of the central tower,
+carries our thoughts back to the ancient system of Italian life, when
+every man's home had its dark, secret places, the abodes of his worst
+passions; whose shadows were alone intrusted with the motion of his
+thoughts; whose walls became the whited sepulchers of crime; whose
+echoes were never stirred except by such words as they dared not
+repeat;<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> from which the rod of power, or the dagger of passion, came
+forth invisible; before whose stillness princes grew pale, as their
+fates were prophesied or fulfilled by the horoscope or the hemlock; and
+nations, as the whisper of anarchy or of heresy was avenged by the
+opening of the low doors, through which those who entered returned not.</p>
+
+<p>146. The mind of the Italian, sweet and smiling in its operations, deep
+and silent in its emotions, was thus, in some degree, typified by those
+abodes into which he was wont to retire from the tumult and wrath of
+life, to cherish or to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> gratify the passions which its struggles had
+excited; abodes which now gleam brightly and purely among the azure
+mountains, and by the sapphire sea, but whose stones are dropped with
+blood; whose vaults are black with the memory of guilt and grief
+unpunished and unavenged, and by whose walls the traveler hastens
+fearfully, when the sun has set, lest he should hear, awakening again
+through the horror of their chambers, the faint wail of the children of
+Ugolino,<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> the ominous alarm of Bonatti, or the long low cry of her
+who perished at Coll' Alto.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Oxford</span>, <i>July, 1838.</i></p>
+
+<div class="footnotes">
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> [Compare "The Seven Lamps of Architecture," chap. i. &sect;
+1.]</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> Shelley has caught the feeling finely:&mdash;"The house is
+penetrated to its corners by the peeping insolence of the day. When the
+time comes the crickets shall not see me."&mdash;<i>Cenci</i> [Act II. scene I,
+quoted from memory.]</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> Ugolino; Dante, <i>Inferno</i> xxxiii. Guido Bonatti, the
+astrologer of Forli, <i>Inferno</i> xx., 118. The lady who perished at Coll'
+Alto, <i>i.e.</i> the higher part of Colle de Val d'Elsa, between Siena and
+Volterra&mdash;was Sapia; <i>Purgatorio</i>, xiii. 100-154.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV.</h3>
+
+<h2>THE LOWLAND VILLA&mdash;ENGLAND.</h2>
+
+
+<p>147. Although, as we have frequently observed, our chief object in these
+papers is, to discover the connection existing between national
+architecture and character, and therefore is one leading us rather to
+the investigation of what is, than of what ought to be, we yet consider
+that the subject would be imperfectly treated, if we did not, at the
+conclusion of the consideration of each particular rank of building,
+endeavor to apply such principles as may have been demonstrated to the
+architecture of our country, and to discover the <i>beau id&eacute;al</i> of English
+character, which should be preserved through all the decorations which
+the builder may desire, and through every variety which fancy may
+suggest. There never was, and never can be, a universal <i>beau id&eacute;al</i> in
+architecture, and the arrival at all local models of beauty would be the
+task of ages; but we can always, in some degree, determine those of our
+own lovely country. We cannot, however, in the present case, pass from
+the contemplation of the villa of a totally different climate, to the
+investigation of what is beautiful here, without the slightest reference
+to styles now or formerly adopted for our own "villas," if such they are
+to be called; and therefore it will be necessary to devote a short time
+to the observance of the peculiarities of such styles, if we possess
+them; or, if not, of the causes of their absence.</p>
+
+<p>148. We have therefore headed this paper "The Villa, England;"
+awakening, without doubt, a different idea in the mind of every one who
+reads the words. Some, accustomed to the appearance of metropolitan
+villas, will think of brick buildings, with infinite appurtenances of
+black nicked chim<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>ney-pots, and plastered fronts, agreeably varied with
+graceful cracks, and undulatory shades of pink, brown, and green,
+communicated to the cement by smoky showers. Others will imagine large,
+square, many-windowed masses of white, set with careful choice of
+situation exactly where they will spoil the landscape to such a
+conspicuous degree, as to compel the gentlemen traveling on the outside
+of the mail to inquire of the guard, with great eagerness, "whose place
+that is;" and to enable the guard to reply with great distinctness, that
+it belongs to Squire &mdash;&mdash;, to the infinite gratification of Squire &mdash;&mdash;,
+and the still more infinite edification of the gentlemen on the outside
+of the mail. Others will remember masses of very red brick, quoined with
+stone; with columnar porticoes, about one-third of the height of the
+building, and two niches, with remarkable looking heads and bag-wigs in
+them, on each side; and two teapots, with a pocket-handkerchief hanging
+over each (described to the astonished spectator as "Grecian urns")
+located upon the roof, just under the chimneys. Others will go back to
+the range of Elizabethan gables; but none will have any idea of a fixed
+character, stamped on a class of national edifices. This is very
+melancholy, and very discouraging; the more so, as it is not without
+cause.</p>
+
+<p>149. In the first place, Britain unites in itself so many geological
+formations, each giving a peculiar character to the country which it
+composes, that there is hardly a district five miles broad, which
+preserves the same features of landscape through its whole width.<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a>
+If, for example, six foreigners were to land severally at Glasgow, at
+Aberystwith, at Falmouth, at Brighton, at Yarmouth, and at Newcastle,
+and to confine their investigations to the country within twenty miles
+of them, what different impressions would they receive of British
+landscape! If, therefore, there be as many forms<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> of edifice as there
+are peculiarities of situation, we can have no national style; and if we
+abandon the idea of a correspondence with situation, we lose the only
+criterion capable of forming a national style.<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a></p>
+
+<p>150. Another cause to be noticed is the peculiar independence of the
+Englishman's disposition; a feeling which prompts him to suit his own
+humor, rather than fall in with the prevailing cast of social sentiment,
+or of natural beauty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> and expression; and which, therefore,&mdash;there being
+much obstinate originality in his mind,&mdash;produces strange varieties of
+dwelling, frequently rendered still more preposterous by his love of
+display; a love universally felt in England, and often absurdly
+indulged. Wealth is worshiped in France as the means of purchasing
+pleasure; in Italy, as an instrument of power; in England, as the means
+"of showing off." It would be a very great sacrifice indeed, in an
+Englishman of the average stamp, to put his villa out of the way, where
+nobody would ever see it, or think of <i>him</i>; it is his ambition to hear
+every one exclaiming, "What a pretty place! whose can it be?" And he
+cares very little about the peace which he has disturbed, or the repose
+which he has interrupted; though, even while he thus pushes himself into
+the way, he keeps an air of sulky retirement, of hedgehog independence,
+about his house, which takes away any idea of sociability or good-humor,
+which might otherwise have been suggested by his choice of situation.</p>
+
+<p>151. But, in spite of all these unfortunate circumstances, there are
+some distinctive features in our English country houses, which are well
+worth a little attention. First, in the approach, we have one component
+part of effect, which may be called peculiarly our own, and which
+requires much study before it can be managed well,&mdash;the avenue. It is
+true that we meet with noble lines of timber trees cresting some of the
+larger bastions of Continental fortified cities; we see interminable
+regiments of mistletoed apple trees flanking the carriage road; and
+occasionally we approach a turreted ch&acirc;teau<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> by a broad way, "edged
+with poplar pale." But, allowing all this, the legitimate glory of the
+perfect avenue is ours still, as will appear by a little consideration
+of the elements which constitute its beauty.</p>
+
+<p>152. The original idea was given by the opening of the tangled glades in
+our most ancient forests. It is rather a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> curious circumstance that, in
+those woods whose decay has been most instrumental in forming the bog
+districts of Ireland, the trees have, in general, been planted in
+symmetrical rows, at distances of about twenty feet apart. If the
+arrangement of our later woods be not quite so formal, they at least
+present frequent openings, carpeted with green sward, and edged with
+various foliage, which the architect (for so may the designer of the
+avenue be entitled) should do little more than reduce to symmetry and
+place in position, preserving, as much as possible, the manner and the
+proportions of nature. The avenue, therefore, must not be too long. It
+is quite a mistake to suppose that there is sublimity in a monotonous
+length of line, unless indeed it be carried to an extent generally
+impossible, as in the case of the long walk at Windsor. From three to
+four hundred yards is a length which will display the elevation well,
+and will not become tiresome from continued monotony. The kind of tree
+must, of course, be regulated by circumstances; but the foliage must be
+unequally disposed, so as to let in passages of light across the path,
+and cause the motion of any object across it to change, like an
+undulating melody, from darkness to light. It should meet at the top, so
+as to cause twilight, but not obscurity; and the idea of a vaulted roof,
+without rigidity. The ground should be green, so that the sunlight may
+tell with force wherever it strikes. Now, this kind of rich and shadowy
+vista is found in its perfection only in England: it is an attribute of
+green country; it is associated with all our memories of forest freedom,
+of our wood-rangers, and yeomen with the "doublets of the Lincoln
+green;" with our pride of ancient archers, whose art was fostered in
+such long and breezeless glades; with our thoughts of the merry chases
+of our kingly companies, when the dewy antlers sparkled down the
+intertwined paths of the windless woods, at the morning echo of the
+hunter's horn; with all, in fact, that once contributed to give our land
+its ancient name of "merry" England; a name which, in this age of steam
+and iron, it will have some difficulty in keeping.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>153. This, then, is the first feature we would direct attention to, as
+characteristic, in the English villa: and be it remembered, that we are
+not speaking of the immense lines of foliage which guide the eye to some
+of our English palaces, for those are rather the adjuncts of the park
+than the approach to the building; but of the more laconic avenue, with
+the two crested columns and the iron gate at its entrance, leading the
+eye, in the space of a hundred yards or so, to the gables of its gray
+mansion. A good instance of this approach may be found at Petersham, by
+following the right side of the Thames for about half a mile from
+Richmond Hill; though the house, which, in this case, is approached by a
+noble avenue, is much to be reprehended, as a bad mixture of imitation
+of the Italian with corrupt Elizabethan; though it is somewhat
+instructive, as showing the ridiculous effect of statues out of doors in
+a climate like ours.</p>
+
+<p>154. And now that we have pointed out the kind of approach most
+peculiarly English, that approach will guide us to the only style of
+villa architecture which can be called English,&mdash;the Elizabethan, and
+its varieties,&mdash;a style fantastic in its details, and capable of being
+subjected to no rule, but, as we think, well adapted for the scenery in
+which it arose. We allude not only to the pure Elizabethan, but even to
+the strange mixtures of classical ornaments with Gothic forms, which we
+find prevailing in the sixteenth century. In the most simple form, we
+have a building extending round three sides of a court, and, in the
+larger halls, round several interior courts, terminating in sharply
+gabled fronts, with broad oriels, divided into very narrow lights by
+channeled mullions, without decoration of any kind; the roof relieved by
+projecting dormer windows, whose lights are generally divided into
+three, terminating in very flat arches without cusps, the intermediate
+edge of the roof being battlemented. Then we find wreaths of ornament
+introduced at the base of the oriels;<a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a> ranges of short columns, the
+base of one upon the capital of another, running up beside them; the
+bases<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> being very tall, sometimes decorated with knots of flower-work;
+the columns usually fluted,&mdash;wreathed, in richer examples, with
+ornament. The entrance is frequently formed by double ranges of those
+short columns, with intermediate arches, with shell canopies, and rich
+crests above.<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a> This portico is carried up to some height above the
+roof, which is charged with an infinite variety of decorated chimneys.</p>
+
+<p>155. Now, all this is utterly barbarous as architecture; but, with the
+exception of the chimneys, it is not false in taste; for it was
+originally intended for retired and quiet habitations in our forest
+country, not for conspicuous palaces in the streets of the city; and we
+have shown, in speaking of green country, that the eye is gratified<a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a>
+with fantastic details; that it is prepared, by the mingled lights of
+the natural scenery, for rich and entangled ornament, and would not only
+endure, but demand, irregularity of system in the architecture of man,
+to correspond with the infinite variety of form in the wood architecture
+of nature. Few surprises can be imagined more delightful than the
+breaking out of one of these rich gables, with its decorated entrance,
+among the dark trunks and twinkling leaves of forest scenery. Such an
+effect is rudely given in fig. 12. We would direct the attention chiefly
+to the following points in the building:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>156. First, it is a humorist, an odd, twisted, independent being, with a
+great deal of mixed, obstinate, and occasionally absurd originality. It
+has one or two graceful lines about it, and several harsh and cutting
+ones; it is a whole, which would allow of no unison with any other
+architecture; it is gathered in itself, and would look very ugly indeed,
+if pieces in a purer style of building were added. All this corresponds
+with points of English character, with its humors, its independency, and
+its horror of being put out of its own way.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>157. Again, it is a thoroughly domestic building, homely and
+cottage-like in its prevailing forms, awakening no elevated ideas,
+assuming no nobility of form. It has none of the pride, or the grace of
+beauty, none of the dignity of delight which we found in the villa of
+Italy; but it is a habitation of everyday life, a protection from
+momentary inconvenience, covered with stiff efforts at decoration, and
+exactly typical of the mind of its inhabitant: not noble in its taste,
+not haughty in its recreation, not pure in its perception of beauty; but
+domestic in its pleasures, fond of matter-of-fact rather than of
+imagination, yet sparkling occasionally with odd wit and grotesque
+association. The Italian obtains his beauty, as his recreation, with
+quietness, with few and noble lines, with great seriousness and depth of
+thought, with very rare interruptions to the simple train of feeling.
+But the Englishman's villa is full of effort: it is a business with him
+to be playful, an infinite labor to be ornamental: he forces his
+amusement with fits of contrasted thought, with mingling of minor
+touches of humor, with a good deal of sulkiness, but with no melancholy;
+and therefore, owing to this last adjunct,<a name="FNanchor_30_30" id="FNanchor_30_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a> the building, in its
+original state, cannot be called beautiful, and we ought not to consider
+the effect of its present antiquity, evidence of which is, as was before
+proved, generally objectionable in a building devoted to pleasure,<a name="FNanchor_31_31" id="FNanchor_31_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_31_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a>
+and is only agreeable here, because united with the memory of a departed
+pride.</p>
+
+<p>158. Again, it is a lifelike building, sparkling in its casements, brisk
+in its air, letting much light in at the walls and roof, low and
+comfortable-looking in its door. The Italian's dwelling is much walled
+in, letting out no secrets from the inside, dreary and drowsy in its
+effect. Just such is the difference between the minds of the
+inhabitants; the one passing away in deep and dark reverie, the other
+quick and business-like, enjoying its everyday occupations, and active
+in its ordinary engagements.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>159. Again, it is a regularly planned, mechanical, well-disciplined
+building; each of its parts answering to its opposite, each of its
+ornaments matched with similarity. The Italian (where it has no high
+pretense to architectural beauty) is a rambling and irregular edifice,
+varied with uncorresponding masses: and the mind of the Italian we find
+similarly irregular, a thing of various and ungovernable impulse,
+without fixed principle of action; the Englishman's, regular and uniform
+in its emotions, steady in its habits, and firm even in its most trivial
+determinations.</p>
+
+<p>160. Lastly, the size of the whole is diminutive, compared with the
+villas of the south, in which the effect was always large and general.
+Here the eye is drawn into the investigation of particular points, and
+miniature details; just as, in comparing the English and Continental
+cottages, we found the one characterized by a minute finish, and the
+other by a massive effect, exactly correspondent with the scale of the
+features and scenery of their respective localities.</p>
+
+<p>161. It appears, then, from a consideration of these several points,
+that, in our antiquated style of villa architecture, some national
+feeling may be discovered; but in any buildings now raised there is no
+character whatever: all is ridiculous imitation, and despicable
+affectation; and it is much to be lamented, that now, when a great deal
+of public attention has been directed to architecture on the part of the
+public, more efforts are not made to turn that attention from mimicking
+Swiss <i>ch&acirc;lets</i>, to erecting English houses. We need not devote more
+time to the investigation of <i>purely</i> domestic English architecture,
+though we hope to derive much instruction and pleasure from the
+contemplation of buildings partly adapted for defense, and partly for
+residence. The introduction of the means of defense is, however, a
+distinction which we do not wish at present to pass over; and therefore,
+in our next paper, we hope to conclude the subject of the villa, by a
+few remarks on the style now best adapted for English scenery.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes">
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> Length is another thing: we might divide England into
+strips of country, running southwest and northeast, which would be
+composed of the same rock, and therefore would present the same
+character throughout the whole of their length. Almost all our great
+roads cut these transversely, and therefore seldom remain for ten miles
+together on the same beds.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> It is thus that we find the most perfect schools of
+architecture have arisen in districts whose character is unchanging.
+Looking to Egypt first, we find a climate inducing a perpetual state of
+heavy feverish excitement, fostered by great magnificence of natural
+phenomena, and increased by the general custom of exposing the head
+continually to the sun (Herodotus, bk. III. chap. 12); so that, as in a
+dreaming fever we imagine distorted creatures and countenances moving
+and living in the quiet objects of the chamber, the Egyptian endowed all
+existence with distorted animation; turned dogs into deities, and leeks
+into lightning-darters; then gradually invested the blank granite with
+sculptured mystery, designed in superstition, and adored in disease; and
+then such masses of architecture arose as, in delirium, we feel crushing
+down upon us with eternal weight, and see extending far into the
+blackness above; huge and shapeless columns of colossal life; immense
+and immeasurable avenues of mountain stone. This was a perfect&mdash;that is,
+a marked, enduring, and decided school of architecture, induced by an
+unchanging and peculiar character of climate. Then in the purer air, and
+among the more refined energies of Greece, architecture rose into a more
+studied beauty, equally perfect in its school, because fostered in a
+district not 50 miles square, and in its dependent isles and colonies,
+all of which were under the same air, and partook of the same features
+of landscape. In Rome, it became less perfect, because more imitative
+than indigenous, and corrupted by the traveling, and conquering, and
+stealing ambition of the Roman; yet still a school of architecture,
+because the whole of Italy presented the same peculiarities of scene. So
+with the Spanish and Moresco schools, and many others; passing over the
+Gothic, which, though we hope hereafter to show it to be no exception to
+the rule, involves too many complicated questions to be now brought
+forward as a proof of it.
+</p><p>
+[The comparison of Egyptian architecture with delirious visions seems to
+be an allusion to De Quincey's passage in "The Pains of Opium"&mdash;the last
+paper in "the Confessions of an Opium-Eater"&mdash;where, after describing
+Piranesi's <i>Dreams</i>, he tells how he fancied he was "buried for a
+thousand years, in stone coffins, with mummies and sphinxes, in narrow
+chambers at the heart of eternal pyramids," etc.]</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> Or a city. Any one who remembers entering Carlsruhe from
+the north by the two miles of poplar avenue, remembers entering the most
+soulless of all cities, by the most lifeless of all entrances.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> As in a beautiful example in Brasenose College, Oxford.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> The portico of the [old] Schools and the inner courts of
+Merton and St. John's Colleges, Oxford; an old house at Charlton, Kent;
+and Burleigh House, will probably occur to the mind of the architect, as
+good examples of the varieties of this mixed style.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> [<i>i.e.</i> when the spectator is surrounded by woodland
+scenery. <i>Vide ante</i>, &sect; 88.]</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_30_30" id="Footnote_30_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> Namely the fact that there is no melancholy in the English
+play-impulse; <i>v. ante</i>, &sect; 23.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_31_31" id="Footnote_31_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> See &sect; 118 seq.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="V" id="V"></a>V.</h3>
+
+<h2>THE ENGLISH VILLA.&mdash;PRINCIPLES OF COMPOSITION.</h2>
+
+
+<p>162. It has lately become a custom, among the more enlightened and
+refined of metropolitan shopkeepers, to advocate the cause of propriety
+in architectural decoration, by ensconcing their shelves, counters, and
+clerks in classical edifices, agreeably ornamented with ingenious
+devices, typical of the class of articles to which the tradesman
+particularly desires to direct the public attention. We find our grocers
+enshrined in temples whose columns are of canisters, and whose pinnacles
+are of sugar-loaves. Our shoemakers shape their soles under Gothic
+portals, with pendants of shoes, and canopies of Wellingtons; and our
+cheesemongers will, we doubt not, soon follow the excellent example, by
+raising shops the varied diameters of whose jointed columns, in their
+address to the eye, shall awaken memories of Staffa, P&aelig;stum, and
+Palmyra; and in their address to the tongue, shall arouse exquisite
+associations of remembered flavor, Dutch, Stilton, and Strachino.</p>
+
+<p>163. Now, this fit of taste on the part of our tradesmen is only a
+coarse form of a disposition inherent in the human mind. Those objects
+to which the eye has been most frequently accustomed, and among which
+the intellect has formed its habits of action, and the soul its modes of
+emotion, become agreeable to the thoughts, from their correspondence
+with their prevailing cast, especially when the business of life has had
+any relation to those objects; for it is in the habitual and necessary
+occupation that the most painless hours of existence are passed:
+whatever be the nature of that occupation, the memories belonging to it
+will always be agreeable, and,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> therefore, the objects awakening such
+memories will invariably be found beautiful, whatever their character or
+form.</p>
+
+<p>164. It is thus that taste is the child and the slave of memory; and
+beauty is tested, not by any fixed standard, but by the chances of
+association; so that in every domestic building evidence will be found
+of the kind of life through which its owner has passed, in the operation
+of the habits of mind which that life has induced. From the
+superannuated coxswain, who plants his old ship's figure-head in his six
+square feet of front garden at Bermondsey, to the retired noble, the
+proud portal of whose mansion is surmounted by the broad shield and the
+crested gryphon, we are all guided, in our purest conceptions, our most
+ideal pursuit, of the beautiful, by remembrances of active occupation;
+and by principles derived from industry regulate the fancies of our
+repose.</p>
+
+<p>165. It would be excessively interesting to follow out the investigation
+of this subject more fully, and to show how the most refined pleasures,
+the most delicate perceptions, of the creature who has been appointed to
+eat bread by the sweat of his brow, are dependent upon, and intimately
+connected with, his hours of labor. This question, however, has no
+relation to our immediate object, and we only allude to it, that we may
+be able to distinguish between the two component parts of individual
+character; the one being the consequence of continuous habits of life
+acting upon natural temperament and disposition, the other being the
+<i>humor</i> of character, consequent upon circumstances altogether
+accidental, taking stern effect upon feelings previously determined by
+the first part of the character; laying on, as it were, the finishing
+touches, and occasioning the innumerable prejudices, fancies, and
+eccentricities, which, modified in every individual to an infinite
+extent, form the visible veil of the human heart.</p>
+
+<p>166. Now, we have defined the province of the architect to be, that of
+selecting such forms and colors as shall delight the mind, by preparing
+it for the operations to which it is to be subjected in the building.
+Now, no forms, in domestic architecture, can thus prepare it more
+distinctly than those which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> correspond closely with the first, that is,
+the fixed and fundamental, part of character, which is always so uniform
+in its action, as to induce great simplicity in whatever it designs.
+Nothing, on the contrary, can be more injurious than the slightest
+influence of the <i>humors</i> upon the edifice; for the influence of what is
+fitful in its energy, and petty in its imagination, would destroy all
+the harmony of parts, all the majesty of the whole; would substitute
+singularity for beauty, amusement for delight, and surprise for
+veneration. We could name several instances of buildings erected by men
+of the highest talent, and the most perfect general taste, who yet, not
+having paid much attention to the first principles of architecture,
+permitted the humor of their disposition to prevail over the majesty of
+their intellect, and, instead of building from a fixed design, gratified
+freak after freak, and fancy after fancy, as they were caught by the
+dream or the desire; mixed mimicries of incongruous reality with
+incorporations of undisciplined ideal; awakened every variety of
+contending feeling and unconnected memory; consummated confusion of form
+by trickery of detail; and have left barbarism, where half the world
+will look for loveliness.</p>
+
+<p>167. This is a species of error which it is very difficult for persons
+paying superficial and temporary attention to architecture to avoid:
+however just their taste may be in criticism, it will fail in creation.
+It is only in moments of ease and amusement that they will think of
+their villa: they make it a mere plaything, and regard it with a kind of
+petty exultation, which, from its very nature, will give liberty to the
+light fancy, rather than the deep feeling, of the mind. It is not
+thought necessary to bestow labor of thought, and periods of
+deliberation, on one of the toys of life; still less to undergo the
+vexation of thwarting wishes, and leaving favorite imaginations,
+relating to minor points, unfulfilled, for the sake of general effect.</p>
+
+<p>168. This feeling, then, is the first to which we would direct
+attention, as the villa architect's chief enemy: he will find it
+perpetually and provokingly in his way. He is requested,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> perhaps, by a
+man of great wealth, nay, of established taste in some points, to make a
+design for a villa in a lovely situation. The future proprietor carries
+him upstairs to his study, to give him what he calls his "ideas and
+materials," and, in all probability, begins somewhat thus:&mdash;"This, sir,
+is a slight note: I made it on the spot: approach to Villa Reale, near
+Pozzuoli. Dancing nymphs, you perceive; cypresses, shell fountain. I
+think I should like something like this for the approach: classical, you
+perceive, sir; elegant, graceful. Then, sir, this is a sketch, made by
+an American friend of mine: Whee-whaw-Kantamaraw's wigwam, King of
+the&mdash;Cannibal Islands, I think he said, sir. Log, you observe; scalps,
+and boa-constrictor skins: curious. Something like this, sir, would look
+neat, I think, for the front door; don't you? Then, the lower windows,
+I've not quite decided upon; but what would you say to Egyptian, sir? I
+think I should like my windows Egyptian, with hieroglyphics, sir; storks
+and coffins, and appropriate moldings above: I brought some from
+Fountains Abbey the other day. Look here, sir; angels' heads putting
+their tongues out, rolled up in cabbage leaves, with a dragon on each
+side riding on a broomstick, and the devil looking on from the mouth of
+an alligator, sir.<a name="FNanchor_32_32" id="FNanchor_32_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_32_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> Odd, I think; interesting. Then the corners may
+be turned by octagonal towers, like the center one in Kenilworth Castle;
+with Gothic doors, portcullis, and all, quite perfect; with cross slits
+for arrows, battlements for musketry, machicolations for boiling lead,
+and a room at the top for drying plums; and the conservatory at the
+bottom, sir, with Virginian creepers up the towers; door supported by
+sphinxes, holding scrapers in their fore paws, and having their tails
+prolonged into warm-water pipes, to keep the plants safe in winter,
+etc." The architect is, without doubt, a little astonished by these
+ideas and combinations; yet he sits calmly down to draw his elevations;
+as if he were a stone-mason, or his employer an architect; and the
+fabric rises to electrify its beholders, and confer immortality on its
+perpetrator.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><a name="fig12"></a></p>
+<p class="figcenter"><img src="./images/fig12.jpg"
+alt="Fig. 12. Old English Mansion. 1837."
+title="Fig. 12. Old English Mansion. 1837." /></p>
+<p class="figcenter caption"><span class="smcap">Fig.</span> 12. Old English Mansion. 1837.</p>
+
+<p>169. This is no exaggeration: we have not only listened to speculations
+on the probable degree of the future majesty, but contemplated the
+actual illustrious existence, of several such buildings, with sufficient
+beauty in the management of some of their features to show that an
+architect had superintended them, and sufficient taste in their interior
+economy to prove that a refined intellect had projected them; and had
+projected a Vandalism, only because fancy had been followed instead of
+judgment; with as much <i>nonchalance</i> as is evinced by a perfect poet,
+who is extemporizing doggerel for a baby; full of brilliant points,
+which he cannot help, and jumbled into confusion, for which he does not
+care.</p>
+
+<p>170. Such are the first difficulties to be encountered in villa designs.
+They must always continue to occur in some degree, though they might be
+met with ease by a determination on the part of professional men to give
+no assistance whatever, beyond the mere superintendence of construction,
+unless they be permitted to take the whole exterior design into their
+own hands, merely receiving broad instructions respecting the style (and
+not attending to them unless they like). They should not make out the
+smallest detail, unless they were answerable for the whole. In this
+case, gentlemen architects would be thrown so utterly on their own
+resources, that, unless those resources were adequate, they would be
+obliged to surrender the task into more practiced hands; and, if they
+were adequate, if the amateur had paid so much attention to the art as
+to be capable of giving the design perfectly, it is probable he would
+not erect anything strikingly abominable.</p>
+
+<p>171. Such a system (supposing that it could be carried fully into
+effect, and that there were no such animals as sentimental stone-masons
+to give technical assistance) might, at first, seem rather an
+encroachment on the liberty of the subject, inasmuch as it would prevent
+people from indulging their edificatorial fancies, unless they knew
+something about the matter, or, as the sufferers would probably
+complain, from doing what they liked with their own. But the mistake
+would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> evidently lie in their supposing, as people too frequently do,
+that the outside of their house <i>is</i> their own, and that they have a
+perfect right therein to make fools of themselves in any manner, and to
+any extent, they may think proper. This is quite true in the case of
+interiors; every one has an indisputable right to hold himself up as a
+laughing-stock to the whole circle of his friends and acquaintances, and
+to consult his own private asinine comfort by every piece of absurdity
+which can in any degree contribute to the same; but no one has any right
+to exhibit his imbecilities at other people's expense, or to claim the
+public pity by inflicting public pain. In England, especially, where, as
+we saw before, the rage for attracting observation is universal, the
+outside of the villa is rendered, by the proprietor's own disposition,
+the property of those who daily pass by, and whom it hourly affects with
+pleasure or pain. For the pain which the eye feels from the violation of
+a law to which it has been accustomed, or the mind from the occurrence
+of anything jarring to its finest feelings, is as distinct as that
+occasioned by the interruption of the physical economy, differing only
+inasmuch as it is not permanent; and, therefore, an individual has as
+little right to fulfill his own conceptions by disgusting thousands, as,
+were his body as impenetrable to steel or poison, as his brain to the
+effect of the beautiful or true, he would have to decorate his carriage
+roads with caltrops, or to line his plantations with upas trees.</p>
+
+<p>172. The violation of general feelings would thus be unjust, even were
+their consultation productive of continued vexation to the individual:
+but it is not. To no one is the architecture of the exterior of a
+dwelling-house of so little consequence as to its inhabitant. Its
+material may affect his comfort, and its condition may touch his pride;
+but, for its architecture, his eye gets accustomed to it in a week, and,
+after that, Hellenic, Barbaric, or Yankee, are all the same to the
+domestic feelings, are all lost in the one name of Home. Even the
+conceit of living in a ch&acirc;let, or a wigwam, or a pagoda, cannot retain
+its influence for six months over the weak minds which alone can feel
+it; and the monotony of existence<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> becomes to them exactly what it would
+have been had they never inflicted a pang upon the unfortunate
+spectators, whose unaccustomed eyes shrink daily from the impression to
+which they have not been rendered callous by custom, or lenient by false
+taste.</p>
+
+<p>173. If these considerations are just when they allude only to buildings
+in the abstract, how much more when referring to them as materials of
+composition, materials of infinite power, to adorn or destroy the
+loveliness of the earth. The nobler scenery of that earth is the
+inheritance of all her inhabitants: it is not merely for the few to whom
+it temporarily belongs, to feed from like swine, or to stable upon like
+horses, but it has been appointed to be the school of the minds which
+are kingly among their fellows, to excite the highest energies of
+humanity, to furnish strength to the lordliest intellect, and food for
+the holiest emotions of the human soul. The presence of life is, indeed,
+necessary to its beauty, but of life congenial with its character; and
+that life is not congenial which thrusts presumptuously forward, amidst
+the calmness of the universe, the confusion of its own petty interests
+and groveling imaginations, and stands up with the insolence of a
+moment, amid the majesty of all time, to build baby fortifications upon
+the bones of the world, or to sweep the copse from the corrie, and the
+shadow from the shore, that fools may risk, and gamblers gather, the
+spoil of a thousand summers.</p>
+
+<p>174. It should therefore be remembered by every proprietor of land in
+hill country, that his possessions are the means of a peculiar
+education, otherwise unattainable, to the artists, and in some degree to
+the literary men, of his country; that, even in this limited point of
+view, they are a national possession, but much more so when it is
+remembered how many thousands are perpetually receiving from them, not
+merely a transitory pleasure, but such thrilling perpetuity of pure
+emotion, such lofty subject for scientific speculation, and such deep
+lessons of natural religion, as only the work of a Deity can impress,
+and only the spirit of an immortal can feel:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> they should remember that
+the slightest deformity, the most contemptible excrescence, can injure
+the effect of the noblest natural scenery, as a note of discord can
+annihilate the expression of the purest harmony; that thus it is in the
+power of worms to conceal, to destroy, or to violate, what angels could
+not restore, create or consecrate; and that the right, which every man
+unquestionably possesses, to be an ass, is extended only, in public, to
+those who are innocent in idiotism, not to the more malicious clowns,
+who thrust their degraded motley conspicuously forth amidst the fair
+colors of earth, and mix their incoherent cries with the melodies of
+eternity, break with their inane laugh upon the silence which Creation
+keeps where Omnipotence passes most visibly, and scrabble over with the
+characters of idiocy the pages that have been written by the finger of
+God.</p>
+
+<p>175. These feelings we would endeavor to impress upon all persons likely
+to have anything to do with embellishing, as it is called, fine natural
+scenery; as they might, in some degree, convince both the architect and
+his employer of the danger of giving free play to the imagination in
+cases involving intricate questions of feeling and composition, and
+might persuade the designer of the necessity of looking, not to his own
+acre of land, or to his own peculiar tastes, but to the whole mass of
+forms and combination of impressions with which he is surrounded.</p>
+
+<p>176. Let us suppose, however, that the design is yielded entirely to the
+architect's discretion. Being a piece of domestic architecture, the
+chief object in its exterior design will be to arouse domestic feelings,
+which, as we saw before, it will do most distinctly by corresponding
+with the first part of character. Yet it is still more necessary that it
+should correspond with its situation; and hence arises another
+difficulty, the reconciliation of correspondence with contraries; for
+such, it is deeply to be regretted, are too often the individual's mind,
+and the dwelling-place it chooses. The polished courtier brings his
+refinement and duplicity with him to ape the Arcadian rustic in
+Devonshire; the romantic rhymer takes a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> plastered habitation, with one
+back window looking into the Green Park; the soft votary of luxury
+endeavors to rise at seven, in some Ultima Thule of frosts and storms;
+and the rich stock-jobber calculates his percentages among the soft
+dingles and woody shores of Westmoreland. When the architect finds this
+to be the case, he must, of course, content himself with suiting his
+design to such a mind as ought to be where the intruder's is; for the
+feelings which are so much at variance with themselves in the choice of
+situation, will not be found too critical of their domicile, however
+little suited to their temper.</p>
+
+<p>177. If possible, however, he should aim at something more; he should
+draw his employer into general conversation; observe the bent of his
+disposition, and the habits of his mind; notice every manifestation of
+fixed opinions, and then transfer to his architecture as much of the
+feeling he has observed as is distinct in its operation. This he should
+do, not because the general spectator will be aware of the aptness of
+the building, which, knowing nothing of its inmate, he cannot be; nor to
+please the individual himself, which it is a chance if any simple design
+ever will, and who never will find out how well his character has been
+fitted; but because a portrait is always more spirited than a composed
+countenance; and because this study of human passions will bring a
+degree of energy, unity, and originality into every one of his designs
+(all of which will necessarily be different), so simple, so domestic,
+and so lifelike, as to strike every spectator with an interest and a
+sympathy, for which he will be utterly unable to account, and to impress
+on him a perception of something more ethereal than stone or carving,
+somewhat similar to that which some will remember having felt
+disagreeably in their childhood, on looking at any old house
+authentically haunted. The architect will forget in his study of life
+the formalities of science, and, while his practiced eye will prevent
+him from erring in technicalities, he will advance, with the ruling
+feeling, which, in masses of mind, is nationality, to the conception of
+something truly original, yet perfectly pure.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>178. He will also find his advantage in having obtained a guide in the
+invention of decorations of which, as we shall show, we would have many
+more in English villas than economy at present allows. Candidus<a name="FNanchor_33_33" id="FNanchor_33_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_33_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a>
+complains, in his Note Book, that Elizabethan architecture is frequently
+adopted, because it is easy, with a pair of scissors, to derive a zigzag
+ornament from a doubled piece of paper. But we would fain hope that none
+of our professional architects have so far lost sight of the meaning of
+their art, as to believe that roughening stone mathematically is
+bestowing decoration, though we are too sternly convinced that they
+believe mankind to be more shortsighted by at least thirty yards than
+they are; for they think of nothing but general effect in their
+ornaments, and lay on their flower-work so carelessly, that a good
+substantial captain's biscuit, with the small holes left by the
+penetration of the baker's four fingers, encircling the large one which
+testifies of the forcible passage of his thumb, would form quite as
+elegant a rosette as hundreds now perpetuated in stone.</p>
+
+<p>179. Now, there is nothing which requires study so close, or experiment
+so frequent, as the proper designing of ornament. For its use and
+position some definite rules may be given; but, when the space and
+position have been determined, the lines of curvature, the breadth,
+depth, and sharpness of the shadows to be obtained, the junction of the
+parts of a group, and the general expression, will present questions for
+the solution of which the study of years will sometimes scarcely be
+sufficient;<a name="FNanchor_34_34" id="FNanchor_34_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_34_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a> for they depend upon the feeling of the eye and hand,
+and there is nothing like perfection in decoration, nothing which, in
+all probability, might not, by farther consideration, be improved. Now,
+in cases in which the outline and larger masses are determined by
+situation, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> architect will frequently find it necessary to fall
+back upon his decorations, as the only means of obtaining character; and
+that which before was an unmeaning lump of jagged freestone, will become
+a part of expression, an accessory of beautiful design, varied in its
+form, and delicate in its effect. Then, instead of shrinking from his
+bits of ornament, as from things which will give him trouble to invent,
+and will answer no other purpose than that of occupying what would
+otherwise have looked blank, the designer will view them as an efficient
+<i>corps de reserve</i>, to be brought up when the eye comes to close
+quarters with the edifice, to maintain and deepen the impression it has
+previously received. Much more time will be spent in the conception,
+much more labor in the execution, of such meaning ornaments, but both
+will be well spent and well rewarded.</p>
+
+<p>180. Perhaps our meaning may be made more clear by Fig. 13 A, which is
+that of a window found in a domestic building of mixed and corrupt
+architecture, at Munich (which we give now, because we shall have
+occasion to allude to it hereafter). Its absurd breadth of molding, so
+disproportionate to its cornice, renders it excessively ugly, but
+capable of great variety of effect. It forms one of a range of four,
+turning an angle, whose moldings join each other, their double breadth
+being the whole separation of the apertures, which are something more
+than double squares. Now by alteration of the decoration, and depth of
+shadow, we have B and C. These three windows differ entirely in their
+feeling and manner, and are broad examples of such distinctions of style
+as might be adopted severally in the habitations of the man of
+imagination, the man of intellect and the man of feeling.<a name="FNanchor_35_35" id="FNanchor_35_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_35_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a> If our
+alterations have been properly made, there will be no difficulty in
+distinguishing between their expressions, which we shall therefore leave
+to conjecture. The character of A depends upon the softness with which
+the light is caught upon its ornaments, which should not have a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> single
+hard line in them; and on the gradual, unequal, but intense, depth of
+its shadows. B should have all its forms undefined, and passing into one
+another, the touches of the chisel light, a grotesque face or feature
+occurring in parts, the shadows pale, but broad<a name="FNanchor_36_36" id="FNanchor_36_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_36_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a>; and the boldest
+part of the carving kept in shadow rather than light. The third should
+be hard in its lines, strong in its shades, and quiet in its ornament.</p>
+
+
+<p><a name="fig13"></a></p>
+<p class="figcenter"><img src="./images/fig13.jpg"
+alt="Fig. 13. Windows."
+title="Fig. 13. Windows." /></p>
+<p class="figcenter caption">Fig. 13. Windows.</p>
+
+
+<p>181. These hints will be sufficient to explain our meaning, and we have
+not space to do more, as the object of these papers is rather to observe
+than to advise. Besides, in questions of expression so intricate, it is
+almost impossible to advance fixed principles; every mind will have
+perceptions of its own, which will guide its speculations, every hand,
+and eye, and peculiar feeling, varying even from year to year. We have
+only started the subject of correspondence with individual character,
+because we think that imaginative minds might take up the idea with some
+success, as furnishing them with a guide in the variation of their
+designs, more certain than mere experiment on unmeaning forms, or than
+ringing indiscriminate changes on component parts of established beauty.
+To the reverie, rather than the investigation, to the dream, rather than
+the deliberation, of the architect, we recommend it, as a branch of art
+in which instinct will do more than precept, and inspiration than
+technicality. The correspondence of our villa architecture with our
+natural scenery may be determined with far greater accuracy, and will
+require careful investigation.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>We had hoped to have concluded the Villa in this paper; but the
+importance of domestic architecture at the present day, when people want
+houses more than fortresses, safes more than keeps, and sculleries more
+than dungeons, is sufficient apology for delay.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Oxford</span>, <i>August, 1838.</i></p>
+
+<div class="footnotes">
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_32_32" id="Footnote_32_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> Actually carved on one of the groins of Roslin Chapel.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_33_33" id="Footnote_33_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> [A contributor to the "Architectural Magazine."]</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_34_34" id="Footnote_34_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> For example, we would allow one of the modern builders of
+Gothic chapels a month of invention, and a botanic garden to work from,
+with perfect certainty that he would not, at the expiration of the time,
+be able to present us with one design of leafage equal in beauty to
+hundreds we could point out in the capitals and niches of Melrose and
+Roslin.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_35_35" id="Footnote_35_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> [Though not in this order. C is the intellectual window;
+B, the imaginative one.]</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_36_36" id="Footnote_36_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36_36"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> It is too much the custom to consider a design as composed
+of a certain number of hard lines, instead of a certain number of
+shadows of various depth and dimension. Though these shadows change
+their position in the course of the day, they are relatively always the
+same. They have most variety under a strong light without sun, most
+expression with the sun. A little observation of the infinite variety of
+shade which the sun is capable of casting, as it touches projections of
+different curve and character, will enable the designer to be certain of
+his effects. We shall have occasion to allude to this subject again.
+[See <i>Seven Lamps of Architecture</i>, III. 13, 23.]</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI.</h3>
+
+<h2>THE BRITISH VILLA.&mdash;PRINCIPLES OF COMPOSITION.</h2>
+
+<h3><i>The Cultivated, or Blue Country and the Wooded, or Green Country.</i></h3>
+
+
+<p>182. In the papers hitherto devoted to the investigation of villa
+architecture, we have contemplated the beauties of what may be
+considered as its model, in its original and natural territory; and we
+have noticed the difficulties to be encountered in the just erection of
+villas in England. It remains only to lay down the general principles of
+composition, which in such difficulties may, in some degree, serve as a
+guide. Into more than general principles it is not consistent with our
+plan to enter. One obstacle, which was more particularly noticed, was,
+as it may be remembered, the variety of the geological formations of the
+country. This will compel us to use the divisions of landscape formerly
+adopted in speaking of the cottage, and to investigate severally the
+kind of domestic architecture required by each.</p>
+
+<p>183. First. Blue or cultivated country, which is to be considered as
+including those suburban districts, in the neighborhood of populous
+cities, which, though more frequently black than blue, possess the
+activity, industry, and life, which we before noticed as one of the
+characteristics of blue country. We shall not, however, allude to
+suburban villas at present; first, because they are in country
+possessing nothing which can be spoiled by anything; and, secondly,
+because their close association renders them subject to laws which,
+being altogether different from those by which we are to judge of the
+beauty of solitary villas, we shall have to develop in the consideration
+of street effects.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>184. Passing over the suburb, then, we have to distinguish between the
+<i>simple</i> blue country, which is composed only of rich cultivated
+champaign, relieved in parts by low undulations, monotonous and
+uninteresting as a whole, though cheerful in its character, and
+beautiful in details of lanes and meadow paths; and the <i>picturesque</i>
+blue country, lying at the foot of high hill ranges, intersected by
+their outworks, broken here and there into bits of crag and dingle
+scenery; perpetually presenting prospects of exquisite distant beauty,
+and possessing in its valley and river scenery, fine detached specimens
+of the natural "green country." This distinction we did not make in
+speaking of the cottage; the effect of which, owing to its size, can
+extend only over a limited space; and this space, if in picturesque blue
+country, must be either part of its monotonous cultivation, when it is
+to be considered as belonging to the simple blue country, or part of its
+dingle scenery, when it becomes green country; and it would not be just,
+to suit a cottage, actually placed in one color, to the general effect
+of another color, with which it could have nothing to do. But the effect
+of the villa extends very often over a considerable space, and becomes
+part of the large features of the district; so that the whole character
+and expression of the visible landscape must be considered, and thus the
+distinction between the two kinds of blue country becomes absolutely
+necessary. Of the first, or simple, we have already adduced, as an
+example, the greater part of the South of England. Of the second, or
+picturesque, the cultivated parts of the North and East Ridings of
+Yorkshire, generally Shropshire, and the north of Lancashire, and
+Cumberland, beyond Caldbeck Fells, are good examples; perhaps better
+than all, the country for twelve miles north, and thirty south, east,
+and west, of Stirling.</p>
+
+
+<h3><i>A. The Simple Blue Country.</i></h3>
+
+<p>185. Now, the matter-of-fact business-like activity of simple blue
+country has been already alluded to. This attribute renders in it a
+plain palpable brick dwelling-house<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> allowable; though a thing which, in
+every country but the simple blue, compels every spectator of any
+feeling to send up aspirations, that builders who, like those of Babel,
+have brick for stone, may be put, like those of Babel, to confusion.
+Here, however, it is not only allowable, but even agreeable, for the
+following reasons:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>186. Its cleanness and freshness of color, admitting of little dampness
+or staining, firm in its consistence, not moldering like stone, and
+therefore inducing no conviction of antiquity or decay, presents rather
+the appearance of such comfort as is contrived for the enjoyment of
+temporary wealth, than of such solidity as is raised for the inheritance
+of unfluctuating power. It is thus admirably suited for that country
+where all is change, and all activity; where the working and
+money-making members of the community are perpetually succeeding and
+overpowering each other; enjoying, each in his turn, the reward of his
+industry; yielding up the field, the pasture, and the mine, to his
+successor, and leaving no more memory behind him, no farther evidence of
+his individual existence, than is left by a working bee, in the honey
+for which we thank his class, forgetting the individual. The simple blue
+country may, in fact, be considered the dining-table of the nation; from
+which it provides for its immediate necessities, at which it feels only
+its present existence, and in which it requires, not a piece of
+furniture adapted only to remind it of past refection, but a polished,
+clean, and convenient minister to its immediate wishes. No habitation,
+therefore, in this country, should look old: it should give an
+impression of present prosperity, of swift motion and high energy of
+life; too rapid in its successive operation to attain greatness, or
+allow of decay, in its works. This is the first cause which, in this
+country, renders brick allowable.</p>
+
+<p>187. Again, wherever the soil breaks out in simple blue country, whether
+in the river shore, or the broken roadside bank, or the plowed field, in
+nine cases out of ten it is excessively warm in its color, being either
+gravel or clay, the black vegetable soil never remaining free of
+vegetation. The warm<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> tone of these beds of soil is an admirable relief
+to the blue of the distances, which we have taken as the distinctive
+feature of the country, tending to produce the perfect light without
+which no landscape can be complete. Therefore the red of the brick is
+prevented from glaring upon the eye, by its falling in with similar
+colors in the ground, and contrasting finely with the general tone of
+the distance. This is another instance of the material which nature most
+readily furnishes being the right one. In almost all blue country, we
+have only to turn out a few spadefuls of loose soil, and we come to the
+bed of clay, which is the best material for the building; whereas we
+should have to travel hundreds of miles, or to dig thousands of feet, to
+get the stone which nature does not want, and therefore has not given.</p>
+
+<p>188. Another excellence in brick is its perfect air of English
+respectability. It is utterly impossible for an edifice altogether of
+brick to look affected or absurd: it may look rude, it may look vulgar,
+it may look disgusting, in a wrong place; but it cannot look foolish,
+for it is incapable of pretension. We may suppose its master a brute, or
+an ignoramus, but we can never suppose him a coxcomb: a bear he may be,
+a fop he cannot be; and, if we find him out of his place, we feel that
+it is owing to error, not to impudence; to self-ignorance, not to
+self-conceit; to the want, not the assumption of feeling. It is thus
+that brick is peculiarly English in its effect: for we are brutes in
+many things, and we are ignoramuses in many things, and we are destitute
+of feeling in many things, but we are <i>not</i> coxcombs. It is only by the
+utmost effort, that some of our most highly gifted junior gentlemen can
+attain such distinction of title; and even then the honor sits ill upon
+them: they are but awkward coxcombs. Affectation<a name="FNanchor_37_37" id="FNanchor_37_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_37_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a> never was, and
+never will be, a part of English<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> character; we have too much national
+pride, too much consciousness of our own dignity and power, too much
+established self-satisfaction, to allow us to become ridiculous by
+imitative efforts; and, as it is only by endeavoring to appear what he
+is not, that a man ever can become so, properly speaking, our
+true-witted Continental neighbors, who shrink from John Bull as a brute,
+never laugh at him as a fool. "Il est b&ecirc;te, il n'est pas pourtant sot."</p>
+
+<p>189. The brick house admirably corresponds with this part of English
+character; for, unable as it is to be beautiful, or graceful, or
+dignified, it is equally unable to be absurd. There is a proud
+independence about it, which seems conscious of its entire and perfect
+applicability to those uses for which it was built, and full of a
+good-natured intention to render every one who seeks shelter within its
+walls excessively comfortable; it therefore feels awkward in no company;
+and, wherever it intrudes its good-humored red face, stares plaster and
+marble out of countenance with an insensible audacity, which we drive
+out of such refined company, as we would a clown from a drawing-room,
+but which we nevertheless seek in its own place, as we would seek the
+conversation of the clown in his own turnip-field, if he were sensible
+in the main.</p>
+
+<p>190. Lastly. Brick is admirably adapted for the climate of England, and
+for the frequent manufacturing nuisances of English blue country: for
+the smoke, which makes marble look like charcoal, and stucco like mud,
+only renders brick less glaring in its color; and the inclement climate,
+which makes the composition front look as if its architect had been
+amusing himself by throwing buckets of green water down from the roof,
+and before which the granite base of Stirling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> Castle is moldering into
+sand as impotent as ever was ribbed by ripple, wreaks its rage in vain
+upon the bits of baked clay, leaving them strong, and dry, and
+stainless, warm and comfortable in their effect, even when neglect has
+permitted the moss and wall-flower to creep into their crannies, and
+mellow into something like beauty that which is always comfort. Damp,
+which fills many stones as it would a sponge, is defied by the brick;
+and the warmth of every gleam of sunshine is caught by it, and stored up
+for future expenditure; so that, both actually and in its effect, it is
+peculiarly suited for a climate whose changes are in general from bad to
+worse, and from worse to bad.</p>
+
+<p>191. These then are the principal apologies which the brick
+dwelling-house has to offer for its ugliness. They will, however, only
+stand it in stead in the simple blue country; and, even there, only when
+the following points are observed.</p>
+
+<p>First. The brick should neither be of the white, nor the very dark red,
+kind. The white is worse than useless as a color: its cold, raw, sandy
+neutral has neither warmth enough to relieve, nor gray enough to
+harmonize with, any natural tones; it does not please the eye by warmth,
+in shade; it hurts it, by dry heat in sun; it has none of the advantages
+of effect which brick may have, to compensate for the vulgarity which it
+must have, and is altogether to be abhorred. The very bright red, again,
+is one of the ugliest warm colors that art ever stumbled upon: it is
+never mellowed by damps or anything else, and spoils everything near it
+by its intolerable and inevitable glare. The moderately dark brick, of a
+neutral red, is to be chosen, and this, after a year or two, will be
+farther softened in its color by atmospheric influence, and will possess
+all the advantages we have enumerated. It is almost unnecessary to point
+out its fitness for a damp situation, not only as the best material for
+securing the comfort of the inhabitant, but because it will the sooner
+contract a certain degree of softness of tone, occasioned by microscopic
+vegetation, which will leave no more brick-red than is agreeable to the
+feelings where the atmosphere is chill.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>192. Secondly. Even this kind of red is a very powerful color; and as,
+in combination with the other primitive colors, very little of it will
+complete the light, so, very little will answer every purpose in
+landscape composition, and every addition, above that little, will be
+disagreeable. Brick, therefore, never should be used in large groups of
+buildings, where those groups are to form part of landscape scenery: two
+or three houses, partly shaded with trees, are all that can be admitted
+at once. There is no object more villainously destructive of natural
+beauty, than a large town, of very red brick, with very scarlet tiling,
+very tall chimneys, and very few trees; while there are few objects that
+harmonize more agreeably with the feeling of English ordinary landscape,
+than the large, old, solitary, brick manor house, with its group of dark
+cedars on the lawn in front, and the tall wrought-iron gates opening
+down the avenue of approach.</p>
+
+<p>193. Thirdly. No stone quoining, or presence of any contrasting color,
+should be admitted. Quoins in general (though, by the by, they are
+prettily managed in the old Tolbooth of Glasgow, and some other antique
+buildings in Scotland), are only excusable as giving an appearance of
+strength; while their zigzag monotony, when rendered conspicuous by
+difference of color, is altogether detestable. White cornices, niches,
+and the other superfluous introductions in stone and plaster, which some
+architects seem to think ornamental, only mock what they cannot mend,
+take away the whole expression of the edifice, render the brick-red
+glaring and harsh, and become themselves ridiculous in isolation.
+Besides, as a general principle, contrasts of extensive color are to be
+avoided in all buildings, and especially in positive and unmanageable
+tints. It is difficult to imagine whence the custom of putting stone
+ornaments into brick buildings could have arisen; unless it be an
+imitation of the Italian custom of mixing marble with stucco, which
+affords it no sanction, as the marble is only distinguishable from the
+general material by the sharpness of the carved edges. The Dutch seem to
+have been the originators of the custom; and,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> by the by, if we remember
+right, in one of the very finest pieces of coloring now extant, a
+landscape by Rubens (in the gallery at Munich, we think), the artist
+seems to have sanctioned the barbarism, by introducing a brick edifice,
+with white stone quoining. But the truth is that he selected the
+subject, partly under the influence of domestic feelings, the place
+being, as it is thought, his own habitation, and partly as a piece of
+practice, presenting such excessive difficulties of color, as he, the
+lord of color, who alone could overcome them, would peculiarly delight
+in overcoming; and the harmony with which he has combined tints of the
+most daring force, and sharpest apparent contrast, in the edgy building,
+and opposed them to an uninteresting distance of excessive azure (simple
+blue country, observe), is one of the chief wonders of the painting: so
+that this masterpiece can no more furnish an apology for the continuance
+of a practice which, though it gives some liveliness of character to the
+warehouses of Amsterdam, is fit only for a place whose foundations are
+mud, and whose inhabitants are partially animated cheeses,&mdash;than
+Caravaggio's custom of painting blackguards should introduce an ambition
+among mankind in general of becoming fit subjects for his pencil. We
+shall have occasion again to allude to this subject, in speaking of
+Dutch street effects.</p>
+
+<p>194. Fourthly. It will generally be found to agree best with the
+business-like air of the blue country, if the house be excessively
+simple, and apparently altogether the minister of utility; but, where it
+is to be extensive, or tall, a few decorations about the upper windows
+are desirable. These should be quiet and severe in their lines, and cut
+boldly in the brick itself. Some of the minor streets in the King of
+Sardinia's capital are altogether of brick, very richly charged with
+carving, with excellent effect, and furnish a very good model. Of course
+no delicate ornament can be obtained, and no classical lines can be
+allowed; for we should be horrified by seeing that in brick which we
+have been accustomed to see in marble. The architect must be left to his
+own taste for laying<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> on, sparingly and carefully, a few dispositions of
+well proportioned line, which are all that can ever be required.</p>
+
+<p>195. These broad principles are all that need be attended to in simple
+blue country: anything will look well in it which is not affected; and
+the architect, who keeps comfort and utility steadily in view, and runs
+off into no expatiations of fancy, need never be afraid here of falling
+into error.</p>
+
+
+<h3><i>B. The Picturesque Blue Country.</i></h3>
+
+<p>196. But the case is different with the picturesque blue country.<a name="FNanchor_38_38" id="FNanchor_38_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_38_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a>
+Here, owing to the causes mentioned in the notes at p. 71, we have some
+of the most elevated bits of landscape character, which the country,
+whatever it may be, can afford. Its first and most distinctive
+peculiarity is its grace; it is all undulation and variety of line, one
+curve passing into another with the most exquisite softness, rolling
+away into faint and far outlines of various depth and decision, yet none
+hard or harsh; and in all probability, rounded off in the near ground
+into massy forms of partially wooded hill, shaded downwards into winding
+dingles or cliffy ravines, each form melting imperceptibly into the
+next, without an edge or angle.</p>
+
+<p>197. Its next character is mystery. It is a country peculiarly
+distinguished by its possessing features of great sublimity in the
+distance, without giving any hint in the foreground of their actual
+nature. A range of mountain, seen from a mountain peak, may have
+sublimity, but not the mystery with which it is invested, when seen
+rising over the farthest surge of misty blue, where everything near is
+soft and smiling, totally separated in nature from the consolidated
+clouds of the horizon. The picturesque blue country is sure, from the
+nature of the ground, to present some distance of this kind, so as never
+to be without a high and ethereal mystery.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>198. The third and last distinctive attribute is sensuality. This is a
+startling word, and requires some explanation. In the first place, every
+line is voluptuous, floating, and wavy in its form; deep, rich, and
+exquisitely soft in its color; drowsy in its effect; like slow wild
+music; letting the eye repose on it, as on a wreath of cloud, without
+one feature of harshness to hurt, or of contrast to awaken. In the
+second place, the cultivation, which, in the simple blue country, has
+the forced formality of growth which evidently is to supply the
+necessities of man, here seems to leap into the spontaneous luxuriance
+of life, which is fitted to minister to his pleasures. The surface of
+the earth exults with animation, especially tending to the gratification
+of the senses; and, without the artificialness which reminds man of the
+necessity of his own labor, without the opposing influences which call
+for his resistance, without the vast energies that remind him of his
+impotence, without the sublimity that can call his noblest thoughts into
+action, yet, with every perfection that can tempt him to indolence of
+enjoyment, and with such abundant bestowal of natural gifts, as might
+seem to prevent that indolence from being its own punishment, the earth
+appears to have become a garden of delight, wherein the sweep of the
+bright hills, without chasm or crag, the flow of the bending rivers,
+without rock or rapid, and the fruitfulness of the fair earth, without
+care or labor on the part of its inhabitants, appeal to the most
+pleasant passions of eye and sense, calling for no effort of body, and
+impressing no fear on the mind. In hill country we have a struggle to
+maintain with the elements; in simple blue, we have not the luxuriance
+of delight: here, and here only, all nature combines to breathe over us
+a lulling slumber, through which life degenerates into sensation.</p>
+
+<p>199. These considerations are sufficient to explain what we mean by the
+epithet "sensuality." Now, taking these three distinctive attributes,
+the mysterious, the graceful, and the voluptuous, what is the whole
+character? Very nearly&mdash;the Greek: for these attributes, common to all
+picturesque<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> blue country, are modified in the degree of their presence
+by every climate. In England they are all low in their tone; but as we
+go southward, the voluptuousness becomes deeper in feeling as the colors
+of the earth and the heaven become purer and more passionate, and "the
+purple of ocean deepest of dye;" the mystery becomes mightier, for the
+greater and more universal energy of the beautiful permits its features
+to come nearer, and to rise into the sublime, without causing fear. It
+is thus that we get the essence of the Greek feeling, as it was embodied
+in their finest imaginations, as it showed itself in the works of their
+sculptors and their poets, in which sensation was made almost equal with
+thought, and deified by its nobility of association; at once voluptuous,
+refined, dreamily mysterious, infinitely beautiful. Hence, it appears
+that the spirit of this blue country is essentially Greek; though, in
+England and in other northern localities, that spirit is possessed by it
+in a diminished and degraded degree. It is also the natural dominion of
+the villa, possessing all the attributes which attracted the Romans,
+when, in their hours of idleness, they lifted the light arches along the
+echoing promontories of Tiber. It is especially suited to the expression
+of the edifice of pleasure; and, therefore, is most capable of being
+adorned by it.</p>
+
+<p>200. The attention of every one about to raise himself a villa of any
+kind should, therefore, be directed to this kind of country; first, as
+that in which he will not be felt to be an intruder; secondly, as that
+which will, in all probability, afford him the greatest degree of
+continuous pleasure, when his eye has become accustomed to the features
+of the locality. To the human mind, as on the average constituted, the
+features of hill scenery will, by repetition, become tiresome, and of
+wood scenery, monotonous; while the simple blue can possess little
+interest of any kind. Powerful intellect will generally take perpetual
+delight in hill residence; but the general mind soon feels itself
+oppressed with a peculiar melancholy and weariness, which it is ashamed
+to own; and we hear our romantic gentlemen begin to call out about the
+want<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> of society, while, if the animals were fit to live where they have
+forced themselves, they would never want more society than that of a
+gray stone, or of a clear pool of gushing water. On the other hand,
+there are few minds so degraded as not to feel greater pleasure in the
+picturesque blue than in any other country. Its distance has generally
+grandeur enough to meet their moods of aspiration; its near aspect is
+that of a more human interest than that of hill country, and harmonizes
+more truly with the domestic feelings which are common to all mankind;
+so that, on the whole, it will be found to maintain its freshness of
+beauty to the habituated eye, in a greater degree than any other
+scenery.</p>
+
+<p>201. As it thus persuades us to inhabit it, it becomes a point of honor
+not to make the attractiveness of its beauty its destruction; especially
+as, being the natural dominion of the villa, it affords great
+opportunity for the architect to exhibit variety of design.</p>
+
+<p>Its spirit has been proved to be Greek; and therefore, though that
+spirit is slightly manifested in Britain, and though every good
+architect is shy of importation, villas on Greek and Roman models are
+admissible here. Still, as in all blue country there is much activity of
+life, the principle of utility should be kept in view, and the building
+should have as much simplicity as can be united with perfect
+gracefulness of line. It appears from the principles of composition
+alluded to in speaking of the Italian villa, that in undulating country
+the forms should be square and massy; and, where the segments of curves
+are small, the buildings should be low and flat, while they may be
+prevented from appearing cumbrous by some well-managed irregularity of
+design, which will be agreeable to the inhabitant as well as to the
+spectator; enabling him to change the aspect and size of his chamber, as
+temperature or employment may render such change desirable, without
+being foiled in his design, by finding the apartments of one wing
+matched, foot to foot, by those of the other.</p>
+
+<p>202. For the color, it has been shown that white or pale<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> tints are
+agreeable in all blue country: but there must be warmth in it, and a
+great deal too,&mdash;gray being comfortless and useless with a cold
+distance; but it must not be raw or glaring.<a name="FNanchor_39_39" id="FNanchor_39_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_39_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a> The roof and chimneys
+should be kept out of sight as much as possible; and therefore the one
+very flat, and the other very plain. We ought to revive the Greek custom
+of roofing with thin slabs of coarse marble, cut into the form of tiles.
+However, where the architect finds he has a very cool distance, and few
+trees about the building, and where it stands so high as to preclude the
+possibility of its being looked down upon, he will, if he be courageous,
+use a very flat roof of the dark Italian tile. The eaves, which are all
+that should be seen, will be peculiarly graceful; and the sharp contrast
+of color (for this tiling can only be admitted with white walls) may be
+altogether avoided, by letting them cast a strong shadow, and by running
+the walls up into a range of low garret windows, to break the horizontal
+line of the roof. He will thus obtain a bit of very strong color, which
+will impart a general glow of cheerfulness to the building, and which,
+if he manages it rightly, will not be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> glaring nor intrusive. It is to
+be observed, however, that he can only do this with villas of the most
+humble order, and that he will seldom find his employer possessed of so
+much common sense as to put up with a tile roof. When this is the case,
+the flat slabs of the upper limestone (ragstone) are usually better than
+slate.</p>
+
+<p>203. For the rest, it is always to be kept in view, that the prevailing
+character of the whole is to be that of graceful simplicity;
+distinguished from the simplicity of the Italian edifice, by being that
+of utility instead of that of pride.<a name="FNanchor_40_40" id="FNanchor_40_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_40_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a> Consequently the building must
+<i>not</i> be Gothic or Elizabethan: it may be as commonplace as the
+proprietor likes, provided its proportions be good; but nothing can ever
+excuse one acute angle, or one decorated pinnacle,&mdash;both being direct
+interruption of the repose with which the eye is indulged by the
+undulations of the surrounding scenery. Tower and fortress outlines are
+indeed agreeable, for their fine grouping and roundness; but we do not
+allude to them, because nothing can be more absurd than the humor
+prevailing at the present day among many of our peaceable old gentlemen,
+who never smelt powder in their lives, to eat their morning muffin in a
+savage-looking round tower, and admit quiet old ladies to a tea-party
+under the range of twenty-six cannon, which&mdash;it is lucky for the
+china&mdash;are all wooden ones,&mdash;as they are, in all probability, accurately
+and awfully pointed into the drawing-room windows.</p>
+
+<p>So much then for our British blue country, to which it was necessary to
+devote some time, as occupying a considerable portion of the island, and
+being peculiarly well adapted for villa residences.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3><i>C. The Woody or Green Country.</i></h3>
+
+<p>204. The woody, or green country, which is next in order, was spoken of
+before, and was shown to be especially our own. The Elizabethan was
+pointed out as the style peculiarly belonging to it; and farther
+criticism of that style was deferred until we came to the consideration
+of domestic buildings provided with the means of defense. We have
+therefore at present only to offer a few remarks on the principles to be
+observed in the erection of Elizabethan villas at the present day.</p>
+
+<p>205. First. The building must be either quite chaste, or excessively
+rich in decoration. Every inch of ornament short of a certain quantity
+will render the whole effect poor and ridiculous; while the pure
+perpendicular lines of this architecture will always look well if left
+entirely alone. The architect therefore, when limited as to expense,
+should content himself with making his oriels project boldly, channeling
+their mullions richly, and, in general, rendering his vertical lines
+delicate and beautiful in their workmanship; but, if his estimate be
+unlimited, he should lay on his ornament richly, taking care never to
+confuse the eye.</p>
+
+<p>Those parts to which, of necessity, observation is especially directed,
+must be finished so as to bear a close scrutiny, that the eye may rest
+on them with satisfaction: but their finish must not be of a character
+which would have attracted the eye by itself, without being placed in a
+conspicuous situation; for, if it were, the united attraction of form
+and detail would confine the contemplation altogether to the parts so
+distinguished, and render it impossible for the mind to receive any
+impression of general effect.</p>
+
+<p>Consequently, the parts that project, and are to bear a strong light,
+must be chiseled with infinite delicacy; so that the ornament, though it
+would have remained unobserved had the eye not been guided to it, when
+observed, may be of distinguished beauty and power; but those parts
+which are to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> flat and in shade should be marked with great sharpness
+and boldness, that the impression may be equalized.</p>
+
+<p>When, for instance, we have to do with oriels, to which attention is
+immediately attracted by their projection, we may run wreaths of the
+finest flower-work up the mullions, charge the terminations with
+shields, and quarter them richly; but we must join the window to the
+wall, where its shadow falls, by means of more deep and decided
+decoration.</p>
+
+<p>206. Secondly. In the choice and design of his ornaments, the architect
+should endeavor to be grotesque rather than graceful (though little bits
+of soft flower-work here and there will relieve the eye): but he must
+not imagine he can be grotesque by carving faces with holes for eyes and
+knobs for noses; on the contrary, whenever he mimics grotesque life,
+there should be wit and humor in every feature, fun and frolic in every
+attitude; every distortion should be anatomical, and every monster a
+studied combination. This is a question, however, relating more nearly
+to Gothic architecture and therefore we shall not enter into it at
+present.<a name="FNanchor_41_41" id="FNanchor_41_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_41_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a></p>
+
+<p>207. Thirdly. The gables must on no account be jagged into a succession
+of right angles, as if people were to be perpetually engaged in trotting
+up one side and down the other. This custom, though sanctioned by
+authority, has very little apology to offer for itself, based on any
+principle of composition. In street effect indeed it is occasionally
+useful; and where the verticals below are unbroken by ornament, may be
+used even in the detached Elizabethan, but not when decoration has been
+permitted below. They should then be carried up in curved lines,
+alternating with two angles, or three at the most, without pinnacles or
+hipknobs. A hollow parapet is far better than a battlement, in the
+intermediate spaces; the latter indeed is never allowable, except when
+the building has some appearance of being intended for defense, and
+therefore is generally barbarous in the villa; while the parapet admits
+of great variety of effect.</p>
+
+<p>208. Lastly. Though the grotesque of Elizabethan archi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>tecture is
+adapted for wood country, the grotesque of the clipped garden, which
+frequently accompanies it, is not. The custom of clipping trees into
+fantastic forms is always to be reprehended: first, because it never can
+produce the true grotesque, for the material is not passive, and,
+therefore, a perpetual sense of restraint is induced, while the great
+principle of the grotesque is action; again, because we have a distinct
+perception of two natures, the one neutralizing the other; for the
+vegetable organization is too palpable to let the animal form suggest
+its true idea; again, because the great beauty of all foliage is the
+energy of life and action, of which it loses the appearance by formal
+clipping; and again, because the hands of the gardener will never
+produce anything really spirited or graceful. Much, however, need not be
+said on this subject; for the taste of the public does not now prompt
+them to such fettering of fair freedom, and we should be as sorry to see
+the characteristic vestiges of it, which still remain in a few gardens,
+lost altogether, as to see the thing again becoming common.</p>
+
+<p>209. The garden of the Elizabethan villa, then, should be laid out with
+a few simple terraces near the house, so as to unite it well with the
+ground; lines of balustrade along the edges, guided away into the
+foliage of the taller trees of the garden, with the shadows falling at
+intervals. The balusters should be square rather than round, with the
+angles outward; and if the balustrade looks unfinished at the corners,
+it may be surmounted by a grotesque bit of sculpture, of any kind; but
+it must be very strong and deep in its carved lines, and must not be
+large; and all graceful statues are to be avoided, for the reasons
+mentioned in speaking of the Italian villa: neither is the terraced part
+of the garden to extend to any distance from the house, nor to have deep
+flights of steps, for they are sure to get mossy and slippery, if not
+superintended with troublesome care; and the rest of the garden should
+have more trees than flowers in it. A flower-garden is an ugly thing,
+even when best managed: it is an assembly of unfortunate beings,
+pampered and bloated above their nat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>ural size, stewed and heated into
+diseased growth; corrupted by evil communication into speckled and
+inharmonious colors; torn from the soil which they loved, and of which
+they were the spirit and the glory, to glare away their term of
+tormented life among the mixed and incongruous essences of each other,
+in earth that they know not, and in air that is poison to them.</p>
+
+<p>210. The florist may delight in this: the true lover of flowers never
+will. He who has taken lessons from nature, who has observed the real
+purpose and operation of flowers; how they flush forth from the
+brightness of the earth's being, as the melody rises up from among the
+moved strings of the instrument; how the wildness of their pale colors
+passes over her, like the evidence of a various emotion; how the quick
+fire of their life and their delight glows along the green banks, where
+the dew falls the thickest, and the mists of incense pass slowly through
+the twilight of the leaves, and the intertwined roots make the earth
+tremble with strange joy at the feeling of their motion; he who has
+watched this will never take away the beauty of their being to mix into
+meretricious glare, or feed into an existence of disease. And the
+flower-garden is as ugly in effect as it is unnatural in feeling: it
+never will harmonize with anything, and if people will have it, should
+be kept out of sight till they get into it.</p>
+
+<p>211. But, in laying out the garden which is to assist the effect of the
+building, we must observe, and exclusively use, the natural combinations
+of flowers.<a name="FNanchor_42_42" id="FNanchor_42_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_42_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a> Now, as far as we are aware, bluish purple is the only
+flower color which Nature<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> ever uses in masses of distant effect; this,
+however, she does in the case of most heathers, with the Rhododendron
+ferrugineum, and, less extensively, with the colder color of the wood
+hyacinth. Accordingly, the large rhododendron may be used to almost any
+extent, in masses; the pale varieties of the rose more sparingly; and,
+on the turf, the wild violet and pansy should be sown by chance, so that
+they may grow in undulations of color, and should be relieved by a few
+primroses. All dahlias, tulips, ranunculi, and, in general, what are
+called florist's flowers, should be avoided like garlic.</p>
+
+<p>212. Perhaps we should apologize for introducing this in the
+<i>Architectural Magazine</i>; but it is not out of place: the garden is
+almost a necessary adjunct of the Elizabethan villa, and all garden
+architecture is utterly useless unless it be assisted by the botanical
+effect.</p>
+
+<p>These, then, are a few of the more important principles of architecture,
+which are to be kept in view in the blue and in the green country. The
+wild, or gray, country is never selected, in Britain, as the site of a
+villa; and, therefore, it only remains for us to offer a few remarks on
+a subject as difficult as it is interesting and important, the
+architecture of the villa in British hill, or brown, country.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes">
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_37_37" id="Footnote_37_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37_37"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> The nation, indeed, possesses one or two interesting
+individuals, whose affectation is, as we have seen, strikingly
+manifested in their lake villas: but every rule has its exceptions; and,
+even on these gifted personages, the affectation sits so very awkwardly,
+so like a velvet bonnet on a plowman's carroty hair, that it is
+evidently a late acquisition. Thus, one proprietor of land on
+Windermere, who has built unto himself a castellated mansion with round
+towers, and a Swiss cottage for a stable, has yet, with that admiration
+of the "neat but not gaudy," which is commonly reported to have
+influenced the devil when he painted his tail pea-green, painted the
+rocks at the back of his house pink, that they may look clean. This is a
+little outcrop of English feeling in the midst of the assumed romance.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_38_38" id="Footnote_38_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38_38"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> In leaving simple blue country, we hope it need hardly be
+said that we leave bricks at once and forever. Nothing can excuse them
+out of their proper territory.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_39_39" id="Footnote_39_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39_39"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> The epithet "raw," by the by, is vague, and needs
+definition. Every tint is raw which is perfectly opaque, and has not all
+the three primitive colors in its composition. Thus, black is always
+raw, because it has no color; white never, because it has all colors. No
+tint can be raw which is not opaque; and opacity may be taken away,
+either by actual depth and transparency, as in the sky; by luster and
+texture, as in the case of silk and velvet, or by variety of shade as in
+forest verdure. Two instances will be sufficient to prove the truth of
+this. Brick, when first fired, is always raw; but when it has been a
+little weathered, it acquires a slight blue tint, assisted by the gray
+of the mortar: incipient vegetation affords it the yellow. It thus
+obtains an admixture of the three colors, and is raw no longer. An old
+woman's red cloak, though glaring, is never raw; for it must of
+necessity have folded shades: those shades are of a rich gray; no gray
+can exist without yellow and blue. We have then three colors, and no
+rawness. It must be observed however, that when any one of the colors is
+given in so slight a degree that it can be overpowered by certain
+effects of light, the united color, when opaque, will be raw. Thus many
+flesh-colors are raw; because, though they must have a little blue in
+their composition, it is too little to be efficiently visible in a
+strong light.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_40_40" id="Footnote_40_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_40_40"><span class="label">[40]</span></a> There must always be a difficulty in building in
+picturesque blue country in England; for the English character is
+opposed to that of the country: it is neither graceful, nor mysterious,
+nor voluptuous; therefore, what we cede to the country, we take from the
+nationality, and <i>vice vers&acirc;</i>.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_41_41" id="Footnote_41_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_41_41"><span class="label">[41]</span></a> [See <i>Stones of Venice</i>, vol. III. chap. iii.]</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_42_42" id="Footnote_42_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_42_42"><span class="label">[42]</span></a> Every one who is about to lay out a limited extent of
+garden, in which he wishes to introduce many flowers, should read and
+attentively study, first Shelley, and next Shakspeare. The latter indeed
+induces the most beautiful connections between thought and flower that
+can be found in the whole range of European literature; but he very
+often uses the symbolical effect of the flower, which it can only have
+on the educated mind, instead of the natural and true effect of the
+flower, which it must have, more or less, upon every mind. Thus, when
+Ophelia, presenting her wild flowers, says, "There's rosemary, that's
+for remembrance; pray you, love, remember: and there is pansies, that's
+for thoughts:" the infinite "beauty of the passage depends entirely upon
+the arbitrary meaning attached to the flowers. But, when Shelley speaks
+of</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">"The lily of the vale,</span><br />
+<span class="i0">Whom youth makes so fair, and passion so pale,</span><br />
+<span class="i0">That the light of her tremulous bells is seen</span><br />
+<span class="i0">Through their pavilion of tender green,"</span><br />
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>he is etherealizing an impression which the mind naturally receives from
+the flower. Consequently, as it is only by their natural influence that
+flowers can address the mind through the eye, we must read Shelley, to
+learn how to use flowers, and Shakspeare, to learn to love them. In both
+writers we find the wild flower possessing soul as well as life, and
+mingling its influence most intimately, like an untaught melody, with
+the deepest and most secret streams of human emotion.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>VII.</h3>
+
+<h2>THE BRITISH VILLA.&mdash;PRINCIPLES OF COMPOSITION.</h2>
+
+<h3><i>D. Hill, or Brown Country.</i></h3>
+
+<h4>"Vivite contenti casulis et collibus istis."&mdash;Juvenal [xiv. 179.]</h4>
+
+
+<p>213. In the Boulevard des Italiens, just at the turning into the Rue de
+la Paix (in Paris), there stand a few dusky and withered trees, beside a
+kind of dry ditch, paved at the bottom, into which a carriage can with
+some difficulty descend, and which affords access (not in an unusual
+manner) to the ground floor of a large and dreary-looking house, whose
+passages are dark and confined, whose rooms are limited in size, and
+whose windows command an interesting view of the dusky trees before
+mentioned.</p>
+
+<p>This is the town residence of one of the Italian noblemen, whose country
+house has already been figured as a beautiful example of the villas of
+the Lago di Como. That villa, however, though in one of the loveliest
+situations that hill, and wave, and heaven ever combined to adorn, and
+though itself one of the most delicious habitations that luxury ever
+projected or wealth procured, is very rarely honored by the presence of
+its master; while attractions of a very different nature retain him,
+winter after winter, in the dark chambers of the Boulevard des Italiens.</p>
+
+<p>214. This appears singular to the casual traveler, who darts down from
+the dust and heat of the French capital to the light and glory of the
+Italian lakes, and finds the tall marble chambers and orange groves, in
+which he thinks, were he possessed of them, he could luxuriate forever,
+left<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> desolate and neglected by their real owner; but, were he to try
+such a residence for a single twelvemonth, we believe his wonder would
+have greatly diminished at the end of the time. For the mind of the
+nobleman in question does not differ from that of the average of men;
+inasmuch as it is a well-known fact that a series of sublime
+impressions, continued indefinitely, gradually pall upon the
+imagination, deaden its fineness of feeling, and in the end induce a
+gloomy and morbid state of mind, a reaction of a peculiarly melancholy
+character, because consequent, not upon the absence of that which once
+caused excitement, but upon the failure of its power.<a name="FNanchor_43_43" id="FNanchor_43_43"></a><a href="#Footnote_43_43" class="fnanchor">[43]</a> This is not
+the case with all men; but with those over whom the sublimity of an
+unchanging scene can retain its power forever, we have nothing to do;
+for they know better than any architect can, how to choose their scene,
+and how to add to its effect; we have only to impress upon them the
+propriety of thinking before they build, and of keeping their humors
+under the control of their judgment.</p>
+
+<p>215. It is not of them, but of the man of average intellect, that we are
+thinking throughout all these papers; and upon him it cannot be too
+strongly impressed, that there are very few points in a hill country at
+all adapted for a permanent residence. There is a kind of instinct,
+indeed, by which men become aware of this, and shrink from the sterner
+features of hill scenery into the parts possessing a human interest; and
+thus we find the north side of the Lake Leman, from Vevay to Geneva,
+which is about as monotonous a bit of vine-country as any in Europe,
+studded with villas; while the south side, which is as exquisite a piece
+of scenery as is to be found in all Switzerland, possesses, we think,
+two. The instinct in this case is true; but we frequently find it in
+error. Thus, the Lake of Como is the resort of half Italy, while the
+Lago Maggiore possesses scarcely one villa of importance, besides those
+on the Borromean Islands. Yet the Lago Maggiore is far better adapted
+for producing and sustaining a pleasurable impression, than that of
+Como.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>216. The first thing, then, which the architect has to do in hill
+country is to bring his employer down from heroics to common sense; to
+teach him that, although it might be very well for a man like Pliny,<a name="FNanchor_44_44" id="FNanchor_44_44"></a><a href="#Footnote_44_44" class="fnanchor">[44]</a>
+whose whole spirit and life was wrapt up in that of Nature, to set
+himself down under the splash of a cascade 400 feet high, such escapades
+are not becoming in English gentlemen; and that it is necessary, for his
+own satisfaction, as well as that of others, that he should keep in the
+most quiet and least pretending corners of the landscape which he has
+chosen.</p>
+
+<p>217. Having got his employer well under control, he has two points to
+consider. First, where he will spoil least; and, secondly, where he will
+gain most.</p>
+
+<p>Now he may spoil a landscape in two ways: either by destroying an
+association connected with it, or a beauty inherent in it. With the
+first barbarism we have nothing to do; for it is one which would not be
+permitted on a large scale; and even if it were, could not be
+perpetrated by any man of the slightest education. No one, having any
+pretensions to be called a human being, would build himself a house on
+the meadow of the R&uuml;tli, or by the farm of La Haye Sainte, or on the
+lonely isle on Loch Katrine. Of the injustice of the second barbarism we
+have spoken already; and it is the object of this paper to show how it
+may be avoided, as well as to develop the principles by which we may be
+guided in the second question; that of ascertaining how much permanent
+pleasure will be received from the contemplation of a given scene.</p>
+
+<p>218. It is very fortunate that the result of these several
+investigations will generally be found the same. The residence which in
+the end is found altogether delightful, will be found to have been
+placed where it has committed no injury; and therefore the best way of
+consulting our own convenience<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> in the end is, to consult the feelings
+of the spectator in the beginning.<a name="FNanchor_45_45" id="FNanchor_45_45"></a><a href="#Footnote_45_45" class="fnanchor">[45]</a> Now, the first grand rule for the
+choice of situation is, never to build a villa where the ground is not
+richly productive. It is not enough that it should be capable of
+producing a crop of scanty oats or turnips in a fine season; it must be
+rich and luxuriant, and glowing with vegetative power of one kind or
+another.<a name="FNanchor_46_46" id="FNanchor_46_46"></a><a href="#Footnote_46_46" class="fnanchor">[46]</a> For the very chiefest<a name="FNanchor_47_47" id="FNanchor_47_47"></a><a href="#Footnote_47_47" class="fnanchor">[47]</a> part of the character of the
+edifice of pleasure is, and must be, its perfect ease, its appearance of
+felicitous repose. This it can never have where the nature and
+expression of the land near it reminds us of the necessity of labor, and
+where the earth is niggardly of all that constitutes its beauty and our
+pleasure; this it can only have where the presence of man seems the
+natural consequence of an ample provision for his enjoyment, not the
+continuous struggle of suffering existence with a rude heaven and rugged
+soil. There is nobility in such a struggle, but not when it is
+maintained by the inhabitant of the villa, in whom it is unnatural, and
+therefore injurious in its effect. The narrow cottage on the desolate
+moor, or the stalwart hospice on the crest of the Alps, each leaves an
+ennobling impression of energy and endurance; but the possessor of the
+villa should call, not upon our admiration, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> upon our sympathy; and
+his function is to deepen the impression of the beauty and the fullness
+of creation, not to exhibit the majesty of man; to show, in the
+intercourse of earth and her children, not how her severity may be
+mocked by their heroism, but how her bounty may be honored in their
+enjoyment.</p>
+
+<p>219. This position, being once granted, will save us a great deal of
+trouble; for it will put out of our way, as totally unfit for villa
+residence, nine-tenths of all mountain scenery; beginning with such
+bleak and stormy bits of hillside as that which was metamorphosed into
+something like a forest by the author of "Waverley;" laying an equal
+veto on all the severe landscapes of such districts of minor mountains
+as the Scotch Highlands and North Wales; and finishing by setting aside
+all the higher sublimity of Alp and Apennine. What, then, has it left
+us? The gentle slope of the lake shore, and the spreading parts of the
+quiet valley in almost all scenery; and the shores of the Cumberland
+lakes in our own, distinguished as they are by a richness of soil,
+which, though generally manifested only in an exquisite softness of
+pasture and roundness of undulation, is sufficiently evident to place
+them out of the sweeping range of this veto.</p>
+
+<p>220. Now, as we have only to do with Britain at present, we shall direct
+particular attention to the Cumberland lakes, as they are the only
+mountain district which, taken generally, is adapted for the villa
+residence, and as every piece of scenery, which in other districts is so
+adapted, resembles them in character and tone.</p>
+
+<p>We noticed, in speaking of the Westmoreland cottage, the feeling of
+humility with which we are impressed during a mountain ramble. Now, it
+is nearly impossible for a villa of large size, however placed, not to
+disturb and interrupt this necessary and beautiful impression,
+particularly where the scenery is on a very small scale. This
+disadvantage may be obviated in some degree, as we shall see, by
+simplicity of architecture; but another, dependent on a question of
+proportion, is inevitable.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>221. When an object, in which magnitude is a desirable attribute, leaves
+an impression, on a practiced eye, of less magnitude than it really
+possesses, we should place objects beside it, of whose magnitude we can
+satisfy ourselves, of larger size than that which we are accustomed to;
+for, by finding these large objects in precisely the proportion to the
+grand object, to which we <i>are</i> accustomed, while we know their actual
+size to be one to which we are <i>not</i> accustomed, we become aware of the
+true magnitude of the principal feature. But where the object leaves a
+true impression of its size on the practiced eye, we shall do harm by
+rendering minor objects either larger or smaller than they usually are.
+Where the object leaves an impression of greater magnitude than it
+really possesses, we must render the minor objects smaller than they
+usually are, to prevent our being undeceived.</p>
+
+<p>222. Now, a mountain of 15,000 feet high always looks lower than it
+really is; therefore the larger the buildings near it are rendered, the
+better. Thus, in speaking of the Swiss cottage, it was observed that a
+building of the size of St. Peter's in its place, would exhibit the size
+of the mountains more truly and strikingly. A mountain 7000 feet high
+strikes its impression with great truth; we are deceived on neither
+side; therefore the building near it should be of the average size; and
+thus the villas of the Lago di Como, being among hills from 6000 to 8000
+feet high, are well proportioned, being neither colossal nor diminutive:
+but a mountain 3000 feet high always looks higher than it really
+is;<a name="FNanchor_48_48" id="FNanchor_48_48"></a><a href="#Footnote_48_48" class="fnanchor">[48]</a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> therefore the buildings near it should be smaller than the
+average. And this is what is meant by the proportion of objects; namely,
+rendering them of such relative size as shall produce the greatest
+possible impression of those attributes which are most desirable in
+both. It is not the true, but the desirable impression which is to be
+conveyed; and it must not be in one, but in both: the building must not
+be overwhelmed by the mass of the mountain, nor the precipice mocked by
+the elevation of the cottage. (Proportion of color is a question of
+quite a different nature, dependent merely on admixture and
+combination).</p>
+
+<p>223. For these reasons, buildings of a very large size are decidedly
+destructive of effect among the English lakes: first, because apparent
+altitudes are much diminished by them; and, secondly, because, whatever
+position they may be placed in, instead of combining with scenery, they
+occupy and overwhelm it; for all scenery is divided into pieces, each of
+which has a near bit of beauty, a promontory of lichened crag, or a
+smooth swarded knoll, or something of the kind, to begin with. Wherever
+the large villa comes, it takes up one of these beginnings of landscape
+altogether; and the parts of crag or wood, which ought to combine with
+it, become sub<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span>servient to it, and lost in its general effect; that is,
+ordinarily, in a general effect of ugliness. This should never be the
+case: however intrinsically beautiful the edifice may be, it should
+assist, but not supersede; join, but not eclipse; appear, but not
+intrude.</p>
+
+<p>224. The general rule by which we are to determine the size is, to
+select the largest mass which will not overwhelm any object of fine
+form, within two hundred yards of it; and if it does not do this, we may
+be quite sure it is not too large for the distant features: for it is
+one of Nature's most beautiful adaptations, that she is never out of
+proportion with herself; that is, the minor details of scenery of the
+first class bear exactly the proportion to the same species of detail in
+scenery of the second class, that the large features of the first bear
+to the large features of the second. Every mineralogist knows that the
+quartz of the St. Gothard is as much larger in its crystal than the
+quartz of Snowdon, as the peak of the one mountain overtops the peak of
+the other; and that the crystals of the Andes are larger than
+either.<a name="FNanchor_49_49" id="FNanchor_49_49"></a><a href="#Footnote_49_49" class="fnanchor">[49]</a> Every artist knows that the bowlders of an Alpine
+foreground, and the leaps of an Alpine stream, are as much larger than
+the bowlders, and as much bolder than the leaps, of a Cumberland
+foreground and torrent, as the Jungfrau is higher than Skiddaw.
+Therefore, if we take care of the near effect in any country, we need
+never be afraid of the distant.</p>
+
+<p>225. For these reasons, the cottage villa, rather than the mansion, is
+to be preferred among our hills: it has been preferred in many
+instances, and in too many, with an unfortunate result; for the cottage
+villa is precisely that which affords the greatest scope for practical
+absurdity. Symmetry, proportion, and some degree of simplicity, are
+usually kept in view in the large building; but, in the smaller, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span>
+architect considers himself licensed to try all sorts of experiments,
+and jumbles together pieces of imitation, taken at random from his
+note-book, as carelessly as a bad chemist mixing elements, from which he
+may by accident obtain something new, though the chances are ten to one
+that he obtains something useless. The chemist, however, is more
+innocent than the architect; for the one throws his trash out of the
+window, if the compound fail; while the other always thinks his conceit
+too good to be lost. The great one cause of all the errors in this
+branch of architecture is, the principle of imitation, at once the most
+baneful and the most unintellectual, yet perhaps the most natural, that
+the human mind can encourage or act upon.<a name="FNanchor_50_50" id="FNanchor_50_50"></a><a href="#Footnote_50_50" class="fnanchor">[50]</a> Let it once be thoroughly
+rooted out, and the cottage villa will become a beautiful and
+interesting element of our landscape.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p><p>226. So much for size. The question of position need not detain us long,
+as the principles advanced in &sect; 104 are true generally, with one
+exception. Beautiful and calm the situation must always be, but&mdash;in
+England&mdash;not conspicuous. In Italy, the dwelling of the descendants of
+those whose former life has bestowed on every scene the greater part of
+the majesty which it possesses, ought to have a dignity inherent in it,
+which would be shamed by shrinking back from the sight<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> of men, and
+majesty enough to prevent such non-retirement from becoming intrusive;
+but the spirit of the English landscape is simple, and pastoral and
+mild, devoid, also, of high associations (for in the Highlands and Wales
+almost every spot which has the pride of memory is unfit for villa
+residence); and, therefore, all conspicuous appearance of its more
+wealthy inhabitants becomes ostentation, not dignity; impudence, not
+condescension. Their dwellings ought to be just evident, and no more, as
+forming part of the gentle animation and present prosperity which is the
+beauty of cultivated ground. And this partial concealment may be
+effected without any sacrifice of the prospect which the proprietor will
+insist upon commanding from his windows, and with great accession to his
+permanent enjoyment.</p>
+
+<p>227. For, first, the only prospect which is really desirable or
+delightful, is that from the window of the breakfast-room. This is
+rather a bold position, but it will appear evident on a little
+consideration. It is pleasant enough to have a pretty little bit visible
+from the bedrooms; but, after all, it only makes gentlemen cut
+themselves in shaving, and ladies never think of anything beneath the
+sun when they are dressing. Then, in the dining-room, windows are
+absolutely useless, because dinner is always uncomfortable by daylight,
+and the weight of furniture effect which adapts the room for the
+gastronomic rites, renders it detestable as a sitting-room. In the
+library, people should have something else to do, than looking out of
+the windows; in the drawing-room, the uncomfortable stillness of the
+quarter of an hour before dinner, may, indeed, be alleviated by having
+something to converse about at the windows: but it is very shameful to
+spoil a prospect of any kind, by looking at it when we are not ourselves
+in a state of corporal comfort and mental good-humor, which nobody can
+be after the labor of the day, and before he has been fed. But the
+breakfast-room, where we meet the first light of the dewy day, the first
+breath of the morning air, the first glance of gentle eyes; to which we
+descend in the very spring and elasticity of mental renovation and
+bodily<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> energy, in the gathering up of our spirit for the new day, in
+the flush of our awakening from the darkness and the mystery of faint
+and inactive dreaming, in the resurrection from our daily grave, in the
+first tremulous sensation of the beauty of our being, in the most
+glorious perception of the lightning of our life; there, indeed, our
+expatiation of spirit, when it meets the pulse of outward sound and joy,
+the voice of bird and breeze and billow, <i>does</i> demand some power of
+liberty, some space for its going forth into the morning, some freedom
+of intercourse with the lovely and limitless energy of creature and
+creation.</p>
+
+<p>228. The breakfast-room must have a prospect, and an extensive one; the
+hot roll and hyson are indiscussable except under such sweet
+circumstances. But he must be an awkward architect who cannot afford an
+opening to one window without throwing the whole mass of the building
+open to public view; particularly as, in the second place, the essence
+of a good window view is the breaking out of the distant features in
+little well-composed <i>morceaux</i>, not the general glare of a mass of one
+tone. Have we a line of lake? the silver water must glance out here and
+there among the trunks of near trees, just enough to show where it
+flows; then break into an open swell of water, just where it is widest,
+or where the shore is prettiest. Have we mountains? their peaks must
+appear over foliage or through it, the highest and boldest catching the
+eye conspicuously, yet not seen from base to summit, as if we wanted to
+measure them. Such a prospect as this is always compatible with as much
+concealment as we choose. In all these pieces of management, the
+architect's chief enemy is the vanity of his employer, who will always
+want to see more than he ought to see, and than he will have pleasure in
+seeing, without reflecting how the spectators pay for his peeping.</p>
+
+<p>229. So much, then, for position. We have now only to settle the
+questions of form and color, and we shall then have closed the most
+tiresome investigation which we shall be called upon to enter into;
+inasmuch as the principles which we may arrive at in considering the
+architecture of defense,<a name="FNanchor_51_51" id="FNanchor_51_51"></a><a href="#Footnote_51_51" class="fnanchor">[51]</a> though<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> we hope they may be useful in the
+abstract, will demand no application to native landscape, in which,
+happily, no defense is now required; and those relating to sacred
+edifices will, we also hope, be susceptible of more interest than can
+possibly be excited by the most degraded branch of the whole art of
+architecture, one hardly worthy of being included under the name&mdash;that,
+namely, with which we have lately been occupied, whose ostensible object
+is the mere provision of shelter and comfort for the despicable shell
+within whose darkness and corruption that purity of perception to which
+all high art is addressed is, during its immaturity, confined.</p>
+
+<p>230. There are two modes in which any mental or material effect may be
+increased&mdash;by contrast, or by assimilation. Supposing that we have a
+certain number of features or existences under a given influence; then,
+by subjecting another feature to the same influence, we increase the
+universality, and therefore the effect, of that influence; but by
+introducing another feature, <i>not</i> under the same influence, we render
+the subjection of the other features more palpable, and therefore more
+effective. For example, let the influence be one of shade, to which a
+certain number of objects are subjected. We add another feature,
+subjected to the same influence, and we increase the <i>general
+impression</i> of shade; we add the same feature, <i>not</i> subjected to this
+influence, and we have deepened the <i>effect</i> of shade.</p>
+
+<p>Now, the principles by which we are to be guided in the selection of one
+or other of these means are of great importance, and must be developed
+before we can conclude the investigation of villa architecture.</p>
+
+<p>231. The impression produced by a given effect or influence depends upon
+its degree and its duration. Degree always means the proportionate
+energy exerted. Duration is either into time, or into space, or into
+both. The duration of color is in space alone, forming what is commonly
+called extent. The duration of sound is in space and time; the space
+being in the size of the waves of air, which give depth to the tone. The
+duration of mental emotion is in time<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> alone. Now in all influences, as
+is the degree, so is the impression; as is the duration, so is the
+effect of the impression; that is, its permanent operation upon the
+feelings, or the violence with which it takes possession of our own
+faculties and senses, as opposed to the abstract impression of its
+existence, without such operation on our own essence.</p>
+
+<p>For example, the natural tendency of darkness or shade is to induce fear
+or melancholy. Now, as the degree of the shade, so is the abstract
+impression of the existence of shade; but as the duration of shade, so
+is the fear or melancholy excited by it.</p>
+
+<p>Consequently, when we wish to increase the abstract impression of the
+power of any influence over objects with which we have no connection, we
+must increase degree; but, when we wish the impression to produce a
+permanent effect upon ourselves, we must increase duration.</p>
+
+<p>Now, degree is always increased by contrast, and duration by
+assimilation. A few instances of this will be sufficient.</p>
+
+<p>232. Blue is called a cold color, because it induces a feeling of
+coolness to the eye, and is much used by nature in her cold effects.</p>
+
+<p>Supposing that we have painted a storm scene, in desolate country, with
+a single miserable cottage somewhere in front; that we have made the
+atmosphere and the distance cold and blue, and wish to heighten the
+comfortless impression.</p>
+
+<p>There is an old rag hanging out of the window: shall it be red or blue?
+If it be red, the piece of warm color will contrast strongly with the
+atmosphere; will render its blueness and chilliness immensely more
+apparent; will increase the <i>degree</i> of both, and, therefore, the
+abstract impression of the existence of cold. But, if it be blue, it
+will bring the iciness of the distance up into the foreground; will fill
+the whole visible space with comfortless cold; will take away every
+relief from the desolation; will increase the <i>duration</i> of the
+influence, and, consequently, will extend its operation into the mind
+and feelings of the spectator, who will shiver as he looks.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Now, if we are making a <i>picture</i>, we shall not hesitate a moment: in
+goes the red; for the artist, while he wishes to render the actual
+impression of the presence of cold in the landscape as strong as
+possible, does not wish that chilliness to pass over into, or affect,
+the spectator, but endeavors to make the combination of color as
+delightful to his eye and feelings as possible.<a name="FNanchor_52_52" id="FNanchor_52_52"></a><a href="#Footnote_52_52" class="fnanchor">[52]</a> But, if we are
+painting a <i>scene</i> for theatrical representation, where deception is
+aimed at, we shall be as decided in our proceeding on the opposite
+principle: in goes the blue; for we wish the idea of cold to pass over
+into the spectator, and make him so uncomfortable as to permit his fancy
+to place him distinctly in the place we desire, in the actual scene.</p>
+
+<p>233. Again, Shakspeare has been blamed by some few critical asses for
+the raillery of Mercutio, and the humor of the nurse, in "Romeo and
+Juliet;" for the fool in "Lear;" for the porter in "Macbeth;" the
+grave-diggers in "Hamlet," etc.; because, it is said, these bits
+interrupt the tragic feeling. No such thing; they enhance it to an
+incalculable extent; they deepen its <i>degree</i>, though they diminish its
+duration. And what is the result? that the impression of the agony of
+the individuals brought before us is far stronger than it could
+otherwise have been, and our sympathies are more forcibly awakened;
+while, had the contrast been wanting, the impression of pain would have
+come over into ourselves, our selfish feeling, instead of our sympathy,
+would have been awakened; the conception of the grief of others
+diminished; and the tragedy would have made us very uncomfortable, but
+never have melted us to tears or excited us to indignation. When he,
+whose merry and satirical laugh rung in our ears the moment before,
+faints before us, with "a plague o' both your houses, they have made
+worms' meat of me," the acuteness of our feeling is excessive: but, had
+we not heard the laugh before, there would have been a dull<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> weight of
+melancholy impression, which would have been painful, not affecting.</p>
+
+<p>234. Hence, we see the grand importance of the choice of our means of
+enhancing effect, and we derive the simple rule for that choice, namely,
+that, when we wish to increase abstract impression, or to call upon the
+sympathy of the spectator, we are to use contrast; but, when we wish to
+extend the operation of the impression, or to awaken the selfish
+feelings, we are to use assimilation.</p>
+
+<p>This rule, however, becomes complicated, where the feature of contrast
+is not altogether passive; that is, where we wish to give a conception
+of any qualities inherent in that feature, as well as in what it
+relieves; and, besides, it is not always easy to know whether it will be
+best to increase the abstract idea, or its operation. In most cases,
+energy, the degree of influence, is beauty; and, in many, the duration
+of influence is monotony. In others, duration is sublimity, and energy
+painful: in a few, energy and duration are attainable and delightful
+together.</p>
+
+<p>235. It is impossible to give rules for judgment in every case; but the
+following points must always be observed:&mdash;First, when we use contrast,
+it must be natural and likely to occur. Thus the contrast in tragedy is
+the natural consequence of the character of human existence; it is what
+we see and feel every day of our lives. When a contrast is unnatural, it
+destroys the effect it should enhance.</p>
+
+<p>Canning called on a French refugee in 1794. The conversation naturally
+turned on the execution of the Queen, then a recent event. Overcome by
+his feelings, the Parisian threw himself upon the ground, exclaiming, in
+an agony of tears, "La bonne reine! la pauvre reine!" Presently he
+sprang up, exclaiming, "Cependant, Monsieur, il faut vous faire voir mon
+petit chien danser." This contrast, though natural in a Parisian, was
+unnatural in the nature of things, and therefore injurious.</p>
+
+<p>236. Secondly, when the general influence, instead of being external, is
+an attribute or energy of the thing itself,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> so as to bestow on it a
+permanent character, the contrast which is obtained by the absence of
+that character is injurious, and becomes what is called an interruption
+of the unity. Thus, the raw and colorless tone of the Swiss cottage,
+noticed in &sect; 42, is an injurious contrast to the richness of the
+landscape, which is an inherent and necessary energy in surrounding
+objects. So, the character of Italian landscape is curvilinear;
+therefore, the outline of the buildings entering into its composition
+must be arranged on curvilinear principles, as investigated in &sect; 144.</p>
+
+<p>237. Thirdly. But, if the pervading character can be obtained in the
+single object by different means, the contrast will be delightful. Thus,
+the elevation of character which the hill districts of Italy possess by
+the magnificence of their forms, is transmitted to the villa by its
+dignity of detail and simplicity of outline; and the rectangular
+interruption to the curve of picturesque blue country, partaking of the
+nature of that which it interrupts, is a contrast giving relief and
+interest, while any Elizabethan acute angles, on the contrary, would
+have been a contrast obtained by the absence of the pervading energy of
+the universal curvilinear character, and therefore improper.</p>
+
+<p>238. Fourthly, when the general energy, instead of pervading
+simultaneously the multitude of objects, as with one spirit, is
+independently possessed and manifested by every individual object, the
+result is repetition, not unity; and contrast is not merely agreeable,
+but necessary. Thus, a number of objects, forming the line of beauty, is
+pervaded by one simple energy; but if that energy is separately
+manifested in each, the result is painful monotony. Parallel right
+lines, without grouping, are always liable to this objection; and,
+therefore, a distant view of a flat country is never beautiful unless
+its horizontals are lost in richness of vegetation, as in Lombardy, or
+broken with masses of forest, or with distant hills. If none of these
+interruptions take place, there is immediate monotony, and no
+introduction can be more delightful than such a tower in the distance as
+Strasburg, or, indeed,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> than any architectural combination of verticals.
+Peterborough is a beautiful instance of such an adaptation. It is
+always, then, to be remembered that repetition is not assimilation.</p>
+
+<p>239. Fifthly, when any attribute is necessarily beautiful, that is,
+beautiful in every place and circumstance, we need hardly say that the
+contrast consisting in its absence is painful. It is only when beauty is
+local or accidental that opposition may be employed.</p>
+
+<p>Sixthly. The <i>edge</i> of all contrasts, so to speak, should be as soft as
+is consistent with decisive effect. We mean, that a gradual change is
+better than instantaneous transfiguration; for, though always less
+effective, it is more agreeable. But this must be left very much to the
+judgment.</p>
+
+<p>Seventhly. We must be very careful in ascertaining whether any given
+contrast is obtained by freedom from external, or absence of internal,
+energy, for it is often a difficult point to decide. Thus, the peace of
+the Alpine valley might, at first, seem to be a contrast caused by the
+want of the character of strength and sublimity manifested in the hills;
+but it is really caused by the freedom from the general and external
+influence of violence and desolation.</p>
+
+<p>240. These, then, are principles applicable to all arts, without a
+single exception, and of particular importance in painting and
+architecture.<a name="FNanchor_53_53" id="FNanchor_53_53"></a><a href="#Footnote_53_53" class="fnanchor">[53]</a> It will sometimes be found that one rule comes in the
+way of another; in which case, the most important is, of course, to be
+obeyed; but, in general, they will afford us an easy means of arriving
+at certain results, when, before, our conjectures must have been vague
+and unsatisfactory.</p>
+
+<p>We may now proceed to determine the most proper <i>form</i> for the mountain
+villa of England.</p>
+
+<p>241. We must first observe the prevailing lines of the near hills: if
+they are vertical, there will most assuredly be monotony, for the
+vertical lines of crag are never grouped, and accordingly, by our fourth
+rule, the prevailing lines of our<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> edifice must be horizontal. On the
+Lake of Thun the tendency of the hills is vertical; this tendency is
+repeated by the buildings,<a name="FNanchor_54_54" id="FNanchor_54_54"></a><a href="#Footnote_54_54" class="fnanchor">[54]</a> and the composition becomes thoroughly
+bad; but on the Lake of Como we have the same vertical tendency in the
+hills, while the grand lines of the buildings are horizontal, and the
+composition is good. But, if the prevailing lines of the near hills be
+curved (and they will be either curved or vertical), we must not
+interrupt their character, for the energy is then pervading, not
+individual; and, therefore, our edifice must be rectangular.</p>
+
+<p>In both cases, therefore, the grand outline of the villa is the same;
+but in one we have it set off by contrast, in the other by assimilation;
+and we must work out in the architecture of each edifice the principle
+on which we have begun. Commencing with that in which we are to work by
+contrast: the vertical crags must be the result of violence, and the
+influence of destruction, of distortion, of torture, to speak strongly,
+must be evident in their every line. We free the building from this
+influence, and give it repose, gracefulness, and ease; and we have a
+contrast of feeling as well as of line, by which the desirable
+attributes are rendered evident in both objects, while the <i>duration</i> of
+neither energy being allowed, there can be no disagreeable effect upon
+the spectator, who will not shrink from the terror of the crags, nor
+feel a want of excitement in the gentleness of the building.</p>
+
+<p>242. Secondly, Solitude is powerful and evident in its effect on the
+distant hills; therefore the effect of the villa should be joyous and
+life-like (not flippant, however, but serene); and, by rendering it so,
+we shall enhance the sublimity of the distance, as we showed in speaking
+of the Westmoreland cottage; and, therefore, we may introduce a number
+of windows with good effect, provided that they are kept in horizontal
+lines, and do not disturb the repose which we have shown to be
+necessary.</p>
+
+<p>These three points of contrast will be quite enough: there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> is no other
+external influence from which we can free the building, and the
+pervading energy must be communicated to it, or it will not harmonize
+with our feelings; therefore, before proceeding, we had better determine
+how this contrast is to be carried out in detail.</p>
+
+<p>243. Our lines are to be horizontal; then the roof must be as flat as
+possible. We need not think of snow, because, however much we may slope
+the roof, it will not slip off from the material, which, here, is the
+only proper one; and the roof of the cottage is always very flat, which
+it would not be if there were any inconvenience attending such a form.
+But, for the sake of the second contrast, we are to have gracefulness
+and ease, as well as horizontality. Then we must break the line of the
+roof into different elevations, yet not making the difference great, or
+we shall have visible verticals. And this must not be done at random.</p>
+
+
+<p><a name="fig14"></a></p>
+<p class="figcenter"><img src="./images/fig14.jpg"
+alt="Fig. 14. Leading lines of Villa-composition."
+title="Fig. 14. Leading lines of Villa-composition." /></p>
+<p class="figcenter caption">Fig. 14. Leading lines of Villa-composition.</p>
+
+
+<p>244. Take a flat line of beauty, <i>a d</i>, fig. 14, for the length of the
+edifice. Strike <i>a b</i> horizontally from <i>a</i>, <i>c d</i> from <i>d</i>; let fall
+the verticals, make <i>c f</i> equal <i>m n</i>, the maximum; and draw <i>h f</i>. The
+curve should be so far continued as that <i>h f</i> shall be to <i>c d</i> as <i>c
+d</i> to <i>a b</i>. Then we are sure of a beautifully proportioned form. Much
+variety may be introduced by using different curves; joining parabolas
+with cycloids, etc.; but the use of curves is always the best mode of
+obtaining good forms.<a name="FNanchor_55_55" id="FNanchor_55_55"></a><a href="#Footnote_55_55" class="fnanchor">[55]</a></p>
+
+<p>Further ease may be obtained by added combinations. For instance, strike
+another curve (<i>a q b</i>) through the flat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> line <i>a b</i>; bisect the maximum
+<i>v p</i>, draw the horizontal <i>r s</i>, (observing to make the largest maximum
+of this curve towards the smallest maximum of the great curve, to
+restore the balance), join <i>r q</i>, <i>s b</i>, and we have another
+modification of the same beautiful form. This may be done in either side
+of the building, but not in both.</p>
+
+<p>245. Then, if the flat roof be still found monotonous, it may be
+interrupted by garret windows, which must not be gabled, but turned with
+the curve <i>a b</i>, whatever that may be. This will give instant humility
+to the building, and take away any vestiges of Italian character which
+might hang about it, and which would be wholly out of place.</p>
+
+<p>The windows may have tolerably broad architraves, but no cornices; an
+ornament both haughty and classical in its effect, and, on both
+accounts, improper here. They should be in level lines, but grouped at
+unequal distances, or they will have a formal and artificial air,
+unsuited to the irregularity and freedom around them. Some few of them
+may be arched, however, with the curve <i>a b</i>, the mingling of the curve
+and the square being very graceful. There should not be more than two
+tiers and the garrets, or the building will be too high.</p>
+
+<p>So much for the general outline of the villa, in which we are to work by
+contrast. Let us pass over to that in which we are to work by
+assimilation, before speaking of the material and color which should be
+common to both.</p>
+
+<p>246. The grand outline must be designed on exactly the same principles;
+for the curvilinear proportions, which were opposition before, will now
+be assimilation. Of course, we do not mean to say that every villa in a
+hill country should have the form <i>a b c d</i>; we should be tired to death
+if they had: but we bring forward that form as an example of the
+agreeable result of the principles on which we should always work, but
+whose result should be the same in no two cases. A modification of that
+form, however, will frequently be found useful; for, under the
+depression <i>h f</i>, we may have a hall of entrance and of exercise, which
+is a requisite of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> extreme importance in hill districts, where it rains
+three hours out of four all the year round; and under <i>c d</i> we may have
+the kitchen, servants' rooms, and coachhouse, leaving the large division
+quiet and comfortable.</p>
+
+<p>247. Then, as in the curved country there is no such distortion as that
+before noticed, no such evidence of violent agency, we need not be so
+careful about the appearance of perfect peace; we may be a little more
+dignified and a little more classical. The windows may be symmetrically
+arranged; and, if there be a blue and undulating distance, the upper
+tier may even have cornices; narrower architraves are to be used; the
+garrets may be taken from the roof, and their inmates may be
+accommodated in the other side of the house; but we must take care, in
+doing this, not to become Greek. The material, as we shall see
+presently, will assist us in keeping unclassical; and not a vestige of
+column or capital must appear in any part of the edifice. All should be
+pure, but all should be English; and there should be here, as elsewhere,
+much of the utilitarian about the whole, suited to the cultivated
+country in which it is placed.</p>
+
+<p>248. It will never do to be speculative or imaginative in our details,
+on the supposition that the tendency of fine scenery is to make
+everybody imaginative and enthusiastic. Enthusiasm has no business with
+Turkey carpets or easy-chairs; and the very preparation of comfort for
+the body, which the existence of the villa supposes, is inconsistent
+with the supposition of any excitement of mind: and this is another
+reason for keeping the domestic building in richly productive country.
+Nature has set aside her sublime bits for us to feel and think in; she
+has pointed out her productive bits for us to sleep and eat in; and, if
+we sleep and eat amongst the sublimity, we are brutal; if we poetize
+amongst the cultivation, we are absurd. There are the time and place for
+each state of existence, and we should not jumble that which Nature has
+separated. She has addressed herself, in one part, wholly to the mind;
+there is nothing for us to eat but bilberries, nothing to rest upon but
+rock, and we have no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> business to concoct picnics, and bring cheese, and
+ale, and sandwiches, in baskets, to gratify our beastly natures, where
+Nature never intended us to eat (if she had, we needn't have brought the
+baskets). In the other part, she has provided for our necessities; and
+we are very absurd, if we make ourselves fantastic, instead of
+comfortable. Therefore, all that we ought to do in the hill villa is, to
+adapt it for the habitation of a man of the highest faculties of
+perception and feeling; but only for the habitation of his hours of
+common sense, not of enthusiasm; it must be his dwelling as a man, not
+as a spirit; as a thing liable to decay, not as an eternal energy; as a
+perishable, not as an immortal.</p>
+
+<p>249. Keeping, then, in view these distinctions of form between the two
+villas, the remaining considerations relate equally to both. We have
+several times alluded to the extreme richness and variety of hill
+foreground, as an internal energy to which there must be no contrast.
+Rawness of color is to be especially avoided, but so, also, is poverty
+of effect. It will, therefore, add much to the beauty of the building,
+if in any conspicuous and harsh angle, or shadowy molding, we introduce
+a wreath of carved leafwork,&mdash;in stone, of course. This sounds startling
+and expensive; but we are not thinking of expense: what ought to be, not
+what can be afforded, is the question. Besides, when all expense in
+shamming castles, building pinnacles, and all other fantasticisms has
+been shown to be injurious, that which otherwise would have been wasted
+in plaster battlements, to do harm, may surely be devoted to stone
+leafage, to do good. Now, if there be too much, or too conspicuous,
+ornament, it will destroy simplicity and humility, and everything which
+we have been endeavoring to get; therefore, the architect must be
+careful, and had better have immediate recourse to that natural beauty
+with which he is now endeavoring to assimilate.</p>
+
+<p>250. When Nature determines on decorating a piece of projecting rock,
+she begins with the bold projecting surface, to which the eye is
+naturally drawn by its form, and (observe<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> how closely she works by the
+principles which were before investigated) she finishes this with
+lichens and mingled colors, to a degree of delicacy, which makes us feel
+that we never can look close enough; but she puts in not a single mass
+of form to attract the eye, more than the grand outline renders
+necessary. But, where the rock joins the ground, where the shadow falls,
+and the eye is not attracted, she puts in bold forms of ornament, large
+leaves and grass, bunches of moss and heather, strong in their
+projection, and deep in their color. Therefore, the architect must act
+on precisely the same principle: his outward surfaces he may leave the
+wind and weather to finish in their own way; but he cannot allow Nature
+to put grass and weeds into the shadows; <i>ergo</i>, he must do it himself;
+and, whenever the eye loses itself in shade, wherever there is a dark
+and sharp corner, there, if he can, he should introduce a wreath of
+flower-work. The carving will be preserved from the weather by this very
+propriety of situation: it would have moldered away, had it been exposed
+to the full drift of the rain, but will remain safe in the crevices
+where it is required; and, also, it will not injure the general effect,
+but will lie concealed until we approach, and then rise up, as it were,
+out of the darkness, to its duty; bestowing on the dwellings that finish
+of effect which is manifested around them, and gratifying the natural
+requirements of the mind for the same richness in the execution of the
+designs of men, which it has found on a near approach lavished so
+abundantly, in a distant view subdued so beautifully into the large
+effect of the designs of Nature.</p>
+
+<p>251. Of the ornament itself, it is to be observed that it is not to be
+what is properly called architectural <i>decoration</i> (that which is
+"decorous," becoming, or suitable to), namely, the combination of minor
+forms, which repeat the lines, and partake of the essence of the grand
+design, and carry out its meaning and life into its every member; but it
+is to be true sculpture; the presenting of a pure ideality of form to
+the eye, which may give perfect conception, without the assistance of
+color: it is to be the stone image of vegetation, not botani<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>cally
+accurate, indeed, but sufficiently near to permit us to be sure of the
+intended flower or leaf. Not a single line of any other kind of ornament
+should be admitted, and there should be more leafage than flower-work,
+as it is the more easy in its flow and outline. Deep relief need not be
+attempted, but the edges of the leafage should be clearly and delicately
+defined. The cabbage, the vine, and the ivy are the best and most
+beautiful leaves: oak is a little too stiff, otherwise good. Particular
+attention ought to be paid to the ease of the stems and tendrils; such
+care will always be repaid. And it is to be especially observed, that
+the carving is not to be arranged in garlands or knots, or any other
+formalities, as in Gothic work; but the stalks are to rise out of the
+stone, as if they were rooted in it, and to fling themselves down where
+they are wanted, disappearing again in light sprays, as if they were
+still growing.</p>
+
+<p>252. All this will require care in designing; but, as we have said
+before, we can always do without decoration; but, if we have it, it
+<i>must</i> be well done. It is not of the slightest use to economize; every
+farthing improperly saved does a shilling's worth of damage; and that is
+getting a bargain the wrong way. When one branch or group balances
+another, they <i>must</i> be different in composition. The same group may be
+introduced several times in different parts, but not when there is
+correspondence, or the effect will be unnatural; and it can hardly be
+too often repeated, that the <i>ornament</i> must be kept out of the general
+effect, must be invisible to all but the near observer, and, even to
+him, must not become a necessary part of the design, but must be
+sparingly and cautiously applied, so as to appear to have been thrown in
+by chance here and there, as Nature would have thrown in a bunch of
+herbage, affording adornment without concealment, and relief without
+interruption.</p>
+
+<p>253. So much for form. The question of color has already been discussed
+at some length, in speaking of the cottage; but it is to be noticed,
+that the villa, from the nature of its situation, gets the higher hills
+back into a distance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> which is three or four times more blue than any
+piece of scenery entering into combination with the cottage; so that
+more warmth of color is allowable in the building, as well as greater
+cheerfulness of effect. It should not look like stone, as the cottage
+should, but should tell as a building on the mind as well as the eye.
+White, therefore, is frequently allowable in small quantities,
+particularly on the border of a large and softly shored lake, like
+Windermere and the foot of Loch Lomond; but cream-color, and
+putty-color, and the other varieties of plaster-color are inexcusable.
+If more warmth is required by the situation than the sun will give on
+white, the building should be darkened at once. A warm rich gray is
+always beautiful in any place and under any circumstance; and, in fact,
+unless the proprietor likes to be kept damp like a traveling codfish, by
+trees about his house and close to it (which, if it be white, he must
+have, to prevent glare), such a gray is the only color which will be
+beautiful, or even innocent. The difficulty is to obtain it; and this
+naturally leads to the question of material.</p>
+
+<p>254. If the color is to be white, we can have no ornament, for the
+shadows would make it far too conspicuous, and we should get only
+tawdriness. The simple forms may be executed in anything that will stand
+wet; and the roof, in all cases, should be of the coarse slate of the
+country, as rudely put on as possible. They must be kept clear of moss
+and conspicuous vegetation, or there will be an improper appearance of
+decay; but the more lichenous the better, and the rougher the slate the
+sooner it is colored. If the color is to be gray, we may use the gray
+primitive limestone, which is not ragged on the edges, without preparing
+the blocks too smoothly; or the more compact and pale-colored slate,
+which is frequently done in Westmoreland; and execute the ornaments in
+any very coarse dark marble. Greenstone is an excellent rock, and has a
+fine surface, but it is unmanageable. The grayer granites may often be
+used with good effect, as well as the coarse porphyries, when the gray
+is to be particularly warm. An outward surface of a loose block may be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span>
+often turned to good account in turning an angle; as the colors which it
+has contracted by its natural exposure will remain on it without
+inducing damp. It is always to be remembered, that he who prefers
+neatness to beauty, and who would have sharp angles and clean surfaces,
+in preference to curved outlines and lichenous color, has no business to
+live among hills.</p>
+
+<p>255. Such, then, are the principal points to be kept in view in the
+edifice itself. Of the mode of uniting it with the near features of
+foliage and ground, it would be utterly useless to speak: it is a
+question of infinite variety, and involving the whole theory of
+composition, so that it would take up volumes to develop principles
+sufficient to guide us to the result which the feeling of the practiced
+eye would arrive at in a moment. The inequalities of the ground, the
+character and color of those inequalities, the nature of the air, the
+exposure, and the consequent fall of the light, the quantity and form of
+near and distant foliage, all have their effect on the design, and
+should have their influence on the designer, inducing, as they do, a
+perfect change of circumstance in every locality. Only one general rule
+can be given, and that we repeat. The house must <i>not</i> be a noun
+substantive, it must not stand by itself, it must be part and parcel of
+a proportioned whole: it must not even be seen all at once; and he who
+sees one end should feel that, from the given data, he can arrive at no
+conclusion respecting the other, yet be impressed with a feeling of a
+universal energy, pervading with its beauty of unanimity all life and
+all inanimation, all forms of stillness or motion, all presence of
+silence or of sound.</p>
+
+<p>256. Thus, then, we have reviewed the most interesting examples of
+existing villa architecture, and we have applied the principles derived
+from those examples to the landscape of our own country. Throughout, we
+have endeavored to direct attention to the spirit, rather than to the
+letter, of all law, and to exhibit the beauty of that principle which is
+embodied in the line with which we have headed this concluding paper; of
+being satisfied with national and natural forms,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> and not endeavoring to
+introduce the imaginations, or imitate the customs, of foreign nations,
+or of former times. All imitation has its origin in vanity, and vanity
+is the bane of architecture. And, as we take leave of them, we would,
+once for all, remind our English sons of Sempronius "qui villas
+attollunt marmore novas," <i>novas</i> in the full sense of the word,&mdash;and
+who are setting all English feeling and all natural principles at
+defiance, that it is only the <i>bourgeois gentilhomme</i> who will wear his
+dressing-gown upside down, "parceque toutes les personnes de qualit&eacute;
+portent les fleurs en en-bas."</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Oxford</span>, <i>October, 1838.</i></p>
+
+<div class="footnotes">
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_43_43" id="Footnote_43_43"></a><a href="#FNanchor_43_43"><span class="label">[43]</span></a> [Compare <i>Modern Painters</i>. vol. III. chap. x. &sect; 15.]</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_44_44" id="Footnote_44_44"></a><a href="#FNanchor_44_44"><span class="label">[44]</span></a> [This passage seems to suggest that the Villa Pliniana on
+Como was built by Pliny. It was, however, the work of an antiquarian
+nobleman of the Renaissance, and merely named after the great
+naturalist, who was born, perhaps, at Como, and mentions an ebbing
+spring on this site.]</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_45_45" id="Footnote_45_45"></a><a href="#FNanchor_45_45"><span class="label">[45]</span></a> For instance, one proprietor terrifies the landscape all
+round him, within a range of three miles, by the conspicuous position of
+his habitation; and is punished by finding that, from whatever quarter
+the wind may blow, it sends in some of his plate-glass. Another spoils a
+pretty bit of crag by building below it, and has two or three tons of
+stone dropped through his roof, the first frosty night. Another occupies
+the turfy slope of some soft lake promontory, and has his cook washed
+away by the first flood. We do not remember ever having seen a
+dwelling-house destroying the effect of a landscape, of which,
+considered merely as a habitation, we should wish to be the possessor.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_46_46" id="Footnote_46_46"></a><a href="#FNanchor_46_46"><span class="label">[46]</span></a> We are not thinking of the effect upon the human frame of
+the air which is favorable to vegetation. Chemically considered, the
+bracing breeze of the more sterile soil is the most conducive to health,
+and is practically so, when the frame is not perpetually exposed to it;
+but the keenness which checks the growth of the plant is, in all
+probability, trying, to say the least, to the constitution of a
+resident.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_47_47" id="Footnote_47_47"></a><a href="#FNanchor_47_47"><span class="label">[47]</span></a> We hope the English language may long retain this corrupt
+but energetic superlative.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_48_48" id="Footnote_48_48"></a><a href="#FNanchor_48_48"><span class="label">[48]</span></a> This position, as well as the two preceding, is important,
+and in need of confirmation. It has often been observed, that, when the
+eye is altogether unpracticed in estimating elevation, it believes every
+point to be lower than it really is; but this does not militate against
+the proposition, for it is also well known, that the higher the point,
+the greater the deception. But when the eye is thoroughly practiced in
+mountain measurement, although the judgment, arguing from technical
+knowledge, gives a true result, the impression on the feelings is always
+at variance with it, except in hills of the middle height. We are
+perpetually astonished, in our own country, by the sublime impression
+left by such hills as Skiddaw, or Cader Idris, or Ben Venue; perpetually
+vexed, in Switzerland, by finding that, setting aside circumstances of
+form and color, the abstract impression of elevation is (except in some
+moments of peculiar effect, worth a king's ransom) inferior to the
+truth. We were standing the other day on the slope of the Brevent, above
+the Prieur&eacute; of Chamouni, with a companion, well practiced in climbing
+Highland hills, but a stranger among the Alps. Pointing out a rock above
+the Glacier des Bossons, we requested an opinion of its height. "I
+should think," was the reply, "I could climb it in two steps; but I am
+too well used to hills to be taken in in that way; it is at least 40
+feet." The real height was 470 feet. This deception is attributable to
+several causes (independently of the clearness of the medium through
+which the object is seen), which it would be out of place to discuss
+here, but the chief of which is the natural tendency of the feelings
+always to believe objects subtending the same angle to be of the same
+height. We say the feelings, not the eye; for the practiced eye never
+betrays its possessor, though the due and corresponding mental
+impression is not received.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_49_49" id="Footnote_49_49"></a><a href="#FNanchor_49_49"><span class="label">[49]</span></a> This is rather a bold assertion; and we should be sorry to
+maintain the fact as universal; but the crystals of <i>almost</i> all the
+rarer minerals are larger in the larger mountain; and that altogether
+independently of the period of elevation, which, in the case of Mont
+Blanc, is later than that of our own Mendips.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_50_50" id="Footnote_50_50"></a><a href="#FNanchor_50_50"><span class="label">[50]</span></a> In &sect; 166 we noticed the kind of error most common in
+amateur designs, and we traced that error to its great first cause, the
+assumption of the humor, instead of the true character, for a guide; but
+we did not sufficiently specify the mode in which that first cause
+operated, by prompting to imitation. By imitation we do not mean
+accurate copying, neither do we mean working under the influence of the
+feelings by which we may suppose the originators of a given model to
+have been actuated; but we mean the intermediate step of endeavoring to
+combine old materials in a novel manner. True copying may be disdained
+by architects, but it should not be disdained by nations; for when the
+feelings of the time in which certain styles had their origin have
+passed away, any examples of the same style will invariably be failures,
+unless they be copies. It is utter absurdity to talk of building Greek
+edifices now; no man ever will, or ever can, who does not believe in the
+Greek mythology; and, precisely by so much as he diverges from the
+technicality of strict copyism, he will err. But we ought to have pieces
+of Greek architecture, as we have reprints of the most valuable records,
+and it is better to build a new Parthenon than to set up the old one.
+Let the dust and the desolation of the Acropolis be undisturbed forever;
+let them be left to be the school of our moral feelings, not of our
+mechanical perceptions; the line and rule of the prying carpenter should
+not come into the quiet and holy places of the earth. Elsewhere, we may
+build marble models for the education of the national mind and eye; but
+it is useless to think of adapting the architecture of the Greek to the
+purposes of the Frank; it never has been done, and never will be. We
+delight, indeed, in observing the rise of such a building as La
+Madeleine: beautiful, because accurately copied; useful, as teaching the
+eye of every passer-by. But we must not think of its purpose; it is
+wholly unadapted for Christian worship; and were it as bad Greek as our
+National Gallery, it would be equally unfit.
+</p><p>
+The mistake of our architects in general is, that they fancy they are
+speaking good English by speaking bad Greek. We wish, therefore, that
+copying were more in vogue than it is. But imitation, the endeavor to be
+Gothic, or Tyrolese, or Venetian, without the slightest grain of Gothic
+or Venetian feeling; the futile effort to splash a building into age, or
+daub it into dignity, to zigzag it into sanctity, or slit it into
+ferocity, when its shell is neither ancient nor dignified, and its
+spirit neither priestly nor baronial,&mdash;this is the degrading vice of the
+age; fostered, as if man's reason were but a step between the brains of
+a kitten and a monkey, in the mixed love of despicable excitement and
+miserable mimicry.
+</p><p>
+If the English have no imagination, they should not scorn to be
+commonplace; or rather they should remember that poverty cannot be
+disguised by beggarly borrowing, that it may be ennobled by calm
+independence. Our national architecture never will improve until our
+population are generally convinced that in this art, as in all others,
+they cannot seem what they cannot be. The scarlet coat or the
+turned-down collar, which the obsequious portrait-painter puts on the
+shoulders and off the necks of his savage or insane customers, never can
+make the 'prentice look military, or the idiot poetical; and the
+architectural appurtenances of Norman embrasure or Veronaic balcony must
+be equally ineffective, until they can turn shopkeepers into barons, and
+schoolgirls into Juliets. Let the national mind be elevated in its
+character, and it will naturally become pure in its conceptions; let it
+be simple in its desires, and it will be beautiful in its ideas; let it
+be modest in feeling, and it will not be insolent in stone. For
+architect and for employer, there can be but one rule; to be natural in
+all that they do, and to look for the beauty of the material creation as
+they would for that of the human form, not in the chanceful and changing
+disposition of artificial decoration, but in the manifestation of the
+pure and animating spirit which keeps it from the coldness of the grave.
+[With this remarkable foreshadowing of Mr. Ruskin's Art-teaching compare
+<i>Seven Lamps</i> and <i>Lectures on Architecture and Painting</i>,
+throughout.]</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_51_51" id="Footnote_51_51"></a><a href="#FNanchor_51_51"><span class="label">[51]</span></a> [Referring again to the intended sequel.]</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_52_52" id="Footnote_52_52"></a><a href="#FNanchor_52_52"><span class="label">[52]</span></a> This difference of principle is one leading distinction
+between the artist, properly so called, and the scene, diorama, or
+panorama painter.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_53_53" id="Footnote_53_53"></a><a href="#FNanchor_53_53"><span class="label">[53]</span></a> [For further discussion of which, see <i>Elements of
+Drawing</i>, Letter III.]</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_54_54" id="Footnote_54_54"></a><a href="#FNanchor_54_54"><span class="label">[54]</span></a> [In their turrets and pinnacles, as shown by a poor
+wood-cut in the magazine, not worth reproduction.]</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_55_55" id="Footnote_55_55"></a><a href="#FNanchor_55_55"><span class="label">[55]</span></a> [Compare <i>Modern Painters</i>, vol. IV. chap. xvii. &sect; 49, and
+<i>Elements of Drawing</i>, Letter III.]</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
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