ing a system of high relief: these are mere elements in the hand of the true artist, to be used by him according to the conditions which, in his judgment, are prescribed by the nature of the work. It is probable that he will consider painted glass to allow of less relief and less depth of shadow or variety of distance than other classes of painting; that a greater degree of severity is, as a general rule, suited to it than to ordinary painting; and that strong outlines are for the most part more agreeable to its conditions than soft shading;-but he will also, as I imagine, perceive that all these rules are modified by the position of the window, and that while the finest art of which he is master should be devoted to all, the degree of relief, of pictorial effect, of severity of treatment, and of softness of shading, are subject to an infinity of variations, according to the circumstances of the case: and particularly, that the greatest amount of freedom, relief, and of delicate finish are demanded where his art is applied to the decoration of domestic architecture. I would urge, however, that, whatever may be judged best for the purpose, the two great follies of modern glasspainting may be eschewed, and that we may neither fill our windows with stupid caricatures of mediæval drawing, nor with sickly copies, by powerless hands, from the paintings of Raphael, Rubens, or West.

CHAPTER V.

MATERIALS OF BUILDINGS.

HE materials of civil and domestic buildings must,

THE

of course, in a great degree depend upon local circumstances: as, for instance, brick must always continue the rule in London, and freestone at Bath or Paris; while in the Cotswold Hills, or in Devonshire, rubble stone, and in the chalk districts flint, present themselves as the natural materials.

The conditions, however, prescribed by Nature are far from being imperative. The facilities of transit often neutralize, or even reverse them. The countries where stone is abundant are often equally favourable for brick; while in others, where brick is the natural material, water-carriage or railways often render rubble stone actually cheaper; and in buildings not strictly limited as to cost, a tolerable degree of freedom in the choice of material may always be exercised.

The materials for external use may be briefly classed under the three heads of stone, brick, and timber: among which it may be said, generally, that stone may be considered more dignified than brick, and brick than timber. This is, however, open to an infinity of exceptions; a really fine brick building being vastly superior to a rude stone one, and many timber buildings being far finer than they could readily have been made in brick.

Stone seems suited, par excellence, to monumental, brick to commercial, and timber to rural architecture; though this rule is anything but general in its application. In buildings of the most dignified class, I cannot help strongly holding that wrought stone is the only proper material. The merits of brick having been much underrated, a reaction has recently taken place, which for the time almost amounts to a mania; but, after all which may be said, and with perfect justice, of the capabilities of brick, the fact must ever remain, that stone must hold the highest place in point of dignity and beauty. Everything, however, depends on how the materials are used.

A uniform stone front without diversity of colour may look handsome, but will always be wanting in life and spirit. The ordinary system of building the walls in a somewhat rougher kind of stone than the dressings, produces a certain degree of relief, and for ordinary buildings is the most natural mode of construction, inasmuch as common sense dictates in buildings where economy is an object, the use of a material for the mass of the work which is moderate in cost, while the more ornamental portions demand one of a finer description. This mode of building must, therefore, always prevail: it is founded on common sense, and no argument can disturb it. must, however, be admitted that its very frequency and reasonableness give it a commonplace air. The mind is satisfied with it, and the eye acknowledges that in a simple building the relief of surface in a great degree makes up for the lack of ornament; yet, taken in its normal form, there can be no doubt that in this kind of building, there is wanted the artistic touch which severs mere construction from the work

It

of taste and art. It is but little that is wanted, yet that little is important. There should be enough to shew that the rougher mass of the walling has been thought of, and cared for, by the architect,—there may be more than this, but thus much is necessary to render the building satisfactory. This artistic touch may have also a constructive utility, and if so, all the better:-such is the case with bands of brick, which both strengthen and relieve the rubble walls of Roman structures; and those of stone, which bind together the brick walls of Lombardic churches, or the rubble walls of other countries. This constructive use, however, is not essential. The herring-bonework of the Norman builders, the alternate white and brown courses of a Northamptonshire church, the chequer-work of stone and flint often found in other districts, the more elaborate surface decoration in the same material so frequent in Norfolk and Suffolk, with a hundred other parallel contrivances, are specimens of artistic relief having no constructive object, yet adding vastly to the beauty of the work, and shewing the mind of the builder even in the plain surfaces of the walling.

In structures of a higher character, such as public buildings of importance, especially in large towns, the use of mere walling stone seems hardly consistent; the dignity of the building demands the use of wrought stonework throughout, which deprives us even of the relief of surface common to the most ordinary buildings. This loss may, it is true, be compensated by increased architectural decoration, but that in no degree precludes, or necessarily supersedes, relief in colour produced by the use of varied material,-a species of decoration till lately much neglected, and which

has recently received the name of constructive polychromy.

Among the Italians of the middle ages this kind of decoration was carried to a great extent: as, for instance, in the cathedral of Florence and its exquisite campanile, where the mass of the walls being of white marble, they are interstratified, panelled, and inlaid with red and green marbles, the polychromy varying in scale from deep constructive courses to fine mosaicwork. This is of continual recurrence in Italy, and is in fact rather the rule than the exception in works of the best periods. In the cathedral at Genoa, for instance, it is exquisitely carried out in the internal columns, and in the western portals. It is not, however, necessary, or even desirable, to carry it to this elaborate extent; a very slight variety of colour, obtained without increase of cost, will often be sufficient to lighten up a building of which the tone would otherwise be dull and insipid.

This, however, as all other systems of colouring, demands the hand of the artist, and, without it, becomes simply disgusting; but if artistically used, and not overdone, it becomes one of the most valuable architectural elements. It does not demand costly materials like the rich marbles of the Appenines: the same men who so successfully applied those splendid materials, were equally happy in their use of brick and stone. With us, the richer productions of nature must be reserved for the last touches, but we have abundant opportunity with our more ordinary materials, to produce any reasonable variety of tint which we may need to enliven our architecture. In fact, marbles are generally too susceptible of change from such a climate as ours, to render them very desirable for external