Wilkins, that genius has ever been indebted for success, and the duller and more assiduous student in vain tries to discover them in the dissection of their details. We do not think, with Mr. Hamilton, that the misplaced vagaries of Strawberry Hill, or even the romances of Sir Walter Scott, would have revived the 'passion for the venerable Gothic,' if its principles had been so capricious, its associations so unnatural, or its inferiority so conspicuous, as the following quotation from his letter to Lord Elgin would induce his reader to suppose :—

What is this peculiar charm in the Gothic style? what are its advantages? where its delightful associations? It is certainly far inferior in simple grandeur and massive proportions to its predecessor, the early Norman, which derived these qualities from the Greek; and it may well be presumed to have been in great part the offspring of the overgrown wealth of the Romish hierarchy. When those who were receiving unlimited incomes from the soil, and were possessors of a large portion of the most productive districts in the island, had no other means of employing their superfluous riches, they set themselves about raising enormous structures, avowedly to add to the splendour of religious worship, but frequently also to maintain and extend their influence, to display their power, and to give employment to a people of serfs. Hence alone can we account for the excessive profusion of ornament with which these structures, grand and imposing as they are, were frequently overloaded; tiers rising one above the other of statues contracted for by the yard or ton, clusters of thin tapering columns, with towering arches above them beguiling the sight, and substituted for the massive and simple forms of a preceding age. Though well calculated to astonish the ignorant, they gave to the mass of the people a false impression of religious awe, which was no otherwise connected with religion itself, than as it served to instil a respect and terror for those who presided in them, and who preserved by these means a paramount controul over the architects, and their subordinates the painters and sculptors. What other view of the subject can satisfactorily account for the gorgeous churches raised in the midst of the poorest populations of distant villages? or for the useless and vain accumulation of pinnacles, and turrets, and spires, ramified windows, ornamented niches and canopies, falsely delicate traceries, grotesque and irreverent shapes, and the profusion of unmeaning excrescences lavished indiscriminately over every part of such buildings, offering as they did extravagant contrasts of gloominess and decoration, and not unmingled with the strangest combinations of Christian and Profane Idolatry? To such an extent was the system carried, that it often happened that bulls were issued from Rome which served to inflame the pious ardour of kings, nobles, and people, by holding forth absolution for penances for sin, as a reward to those who came forward with their contributions. That this is a correct conclusion is sufficiently evident from the doubts which have always existed as to the origin of the Gothic style of architecture; if it had been otherwise-if the towering and aspiring character

istics of the Gothic were essentially elements of a pure religious feeling, how could it have been attributed by some writers to the over-arching groves or wicker temples of our pagan ancestors in the north, by others to the Saracens of Spain, or to the mosques and palaces of Fez, by some to the buildings of Ispahan, and again to the splendid and monstrous monuments scattered over the peninsula of India? Where, then, in the present better times, can be the value of associations leading us back to those which, with a few splendid exceptions, were in various degrees and forms chiefly remarkable for the worship of stocks and stones.'-Hamilton, pp. 14-16.

Mr. Hamilton is undoubtedly supported in these opinions by many professional authorities, who, with Lord Orford, imitated the details of Gothic art, and neglected the principles on which its charm depended; as well as by those who discovering, with better taste, the incongruity with which such ornaments had been recently applied, too indiscriminately condemned the original models as well as their unsuccessful imitations. But against the verdict pronounced by such professors we are content to oppose one unprofessional opinion, of an author not ignorant or negligent of Grecian or Italian art, science, philosophy, or literature, but yet one who could love

- the high embowed roof
And antique pillars massy proof,
And storied windows richly dight,
Casting a dim religious light.'

Should Mr. Hamilton still think that the connexion of this gloomy mode of building with religious feeling arises from a false and fantastic prejudice, he will, we humbly hope, forgive us if upon that question, as well as the effect produced by Gothic architecture on minds of genius and sensibility, we prefer the testimony of John Milton to that of the ablest architectural professor that has flourished since the Tower of Babel.

We cannot allow its inferiority-the inferiority of Cologne, Strasburg, Amiens, and our own Gothic structures-to the Norman, or rather Lombard buildings which they superseded; or discern, in the subsequent architecture of the Elizabethan age,' superior taste, or an equal knowledge of mechanical science and recognised principles. We believe, on the contrary, as Mr. Hope and other recent inquirers have suggested, that the Gothic style grew out of the difficulties which in Germany opposed the complete development of the older and more massive manner of Lombardy, and which the increasing science of the free companies of architects alone enabled them to surmount. They deviated at once from every technical principle of Grecian or Italian growth, by adopting in the interlacing of their groined roofs a pointed arch, supported by rows of lofty corresponding

pillars,

pillars, and counterpoised by the concealed arches of the aisles, or by the perforated buttress and its pinnacles; but surely they displayed superior science in mechanical arrangement, when they ventured to trust a vast incumbent weight to counterpoises so admirably adjusted. Nor was their taste inferior to their skill, or less guided by principle. They gained, and they appreciated the effect of, uncircumscribed height, the dimension of all others most impressive on the human mind and imagination-from which every language has adopted the term sublimity, or some cognate metaphor. To enhance that effect, they gradually, but systematically, discarded all the ornamental horizontal mouldings and entablatures, essential to the Grecian colonnade, but calculated to break their loftier elevation into measured parts, and to check the eye and fancy in their upward flight. By the small and delicate foliage which in proportioned masses garlanded their clustered pillars, or enriched their corbelled ceilings, they created a seeming distance, which contributed by its illusion to a still greater apparent altitude. We know that rich ecclesiastic corporations encouraged and directed the construction and decorations of these sumptuous edifices; and that men were found among them deeply and practically scientific in estimating the nice mathematical problems on which the execution and durability of such buildings must depend. Under their superintendence the high embowed roof,' the rich tracery, and storied windows arose in lavish profusion, commensurate only with the riches of their chapters, or the piety and credulity of their wealthy catechumens; but were these the men likely to adopt a barbarous and incoherent style of building, no otherwise connected with religion, or rather with religious feeling, than by inspiring terror or respect for those who presided over them? Such assuredly were not the spiritual politicians of the Romish church in the day of her ascendency. No men, in any age, had more profoundly studied the natural feelings of mankind, or the associations through which such feelings could be most energetically excited or governed. They knew that great and unlimited elevation, and lavish ornament, seen dimly in artificial gloom, or tinged with coloured light, are not only calculated to impress the ignorant with reverence, but to rouse in minds most cultivated by literature and exalted by genius the same high imaginings which Gray experienced in the analogous scenery of the Carthusian forests- Præsentiorem et conspicimus Deum' They knew assuredly, as well as their torch-bearing predecessors in the mystic temple of Eleusis, the natural and universal feeling which connects the indefinite with infinity.

In whatever age or country such effects have been produced by architecture, the patrons who encouraged and the artists who de

vised and carried such conceptions into execution, displayed more, -far more,-mechanical skill, and no less intellectual refinement, than had been exhibited in the construction of the most finished Grecian temple. The arbitrary principles of art were necessarily reversed when worshippers no longer remained in the ornamented portico and peristyle of the heathen structure, but under the Christian ritual were received into the interior halls of the basilica, newly decorated for a less sensual worship. The classical principles of symmetry and proportion were necessarily superseded where indefinite altitude had been selected as the object of attainment. But in truth the best patrons and admirers of Grecian art itself had never been insensible to the influence of similar associations. The torches that shed their mysterious light on the fuliginous statues of their deities, and the towering rocks over which some of their noblest temples domineer, unrivalled by more lofty contiguous buildings, alike attest the principles which actuated the Gothic architects in the universal impression produced by height and obscurity. Reversing the charm of symmetry itself by which mankind had been enchanted, these innovators sought and found, for feelings as strong and universal, a countervailing beauty in well-selected contrasts. Their rich and minute tracery of tombs and shrines, contiguous to the plainer and more massive piers and arches, was not the mere wantonness of barbaric ornament; they knew that the column would seem more majestic, and the tracery still finer and more delicate, from this collocation.

Externally they not only rejected the horizontal entablature of the Grecian colonnade, but reversed its form, and diminished, instead of increasing, the projection of every moulding as it ascended to the summit. To churches thus constructed the tapering tower or heaven-directed spire were natural and appropriate adjuncts; and so long as it continues to be thought indispensable that a steeple or lofty belfry should be annexed to such, we hope that the style will not be abandoned with which alone they are really compatible. In churches of the Grecian or Italian model the steeple is never an essential part, but usually an ugly and anomalous excrescence, whether stuck on to the principal façade, or bestriding with unwelcome weight the pediment of a portico. To these, if orthodoxy would allow us, we should infinitely prefer the detached towers or campanili, which in Italy are occasionally erected, as leaving the principal building unencumbered. Such towers, however, are frequently ugly in themselves; as the forms, though adopted in the later time of declining art at Rome, are incompatible with the principles of a purer and more classic age. The full effect of height can never be produced by a succession of little edifices, each retaining its own definite proportion, and

each

each rising in successive stories on the top of its predecessor; but the immeasurable Gothic spire, or the bold and simple swell of the Italian dome, seem to carry the cross or ball which they support into

'Regions pure of calm and serene air,

Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot
That men call earth.'

The dome, however, requires for its elevation a width of span totally inapplicable to the construction of a belfry.

The enlightened architects who carried Gothic forms to their perfection, and invested the scene of Christian worship with such associations, did not apply the same resources, or seek for the same sympathies, in devising the great public halls, or the domestic dwellings for purposes less sacred. Even in conventual or collegiate buildings the painted window, the arched roof, the buttress and the pinnacle, were chiefly appropriated to the chapel and chapter-house, or sparingly employed in the refectory. We believe that no better or earlier authority than Lord Orford or Mr. Wyatt can be adduced for diffusing such decorations over an extensive structure not immediately consecrated to religion. We hope they will long retain their place in our churches, for which they were invented; but we doubt, as much as Mr. Hamilton, whether they can be applied successfully to less majestic purposes. It would be almost as easy to adapt a chorus of Handel's to a quadrille at a boarding-school.

What has been called the castellated Gothic, and the early domestic architecture adopted at Hurstmonceaux-and in conventual buildings long before the Tudors-as well as the varieties which were subsequently introduced, are not referrible to such fixed principles, and have little value as a style of architecture, though often interesting from historical recollections, and highly picturesque when surrounded by coeval and time-hallowed caks, in the old park or forest that belonged to them. The engineer, not the architect, constructed the true feudal castle; and military skill, not taste, presided even over its decoration. It was long the residence and indication of power and opulence; and on that account its characteristic form continued to be retained, though perforated with larger windows, and enriched with clumsy and capricious ornament, after the necessity for defence had ceased. The quaint devices of the convent, and afterwards a profusion of incongruous Italian decoration of the later ages, were successively adopted and admired in the dwellings of an unrefined but affluent nobility, upon whom the efficient patronage of art devolved when the progress of reformation had impoverished the church, and the married clergy could perpetuate their name and memory in a

manner