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Expression in Egyptian Architecture.

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pared, by his national culture, to be pleased, not only with the reality, but also with the ostentation of a capacity in his work for endless duration; and his associations and sympathy with ideas of material power must have found simple and lively echoes in the ponderous bulks of his earliest monuments. He would retain and seek to increase the expression which thus, in all probability, at first arose from defective science. It is true that he may, from the beginning, have foreseen, with the prophetic 'eye' of the artist, the visual effects of building with blocks, and in forms of excessive massiveness; but whether he did so or not is a question which it would scarcely concern us to determine, even were it possible to do so; and in the existing state of information, we prefer the simpler and more probable belief. The Doric architect, prepared by a different and better culture to receive delight from ideas of correspondence and moderation, would hasten to rid his architectural forms of every species of excess, and by economical management and a due experience of his stone material, he would find himself able to recur nearly to the proportions of the earlier wooden edifice, which he always remembered as his model, and of which the natural forms must have been far more congenial to his modes of thinking and feeling than those of its first transcript in marble. The Indian excavator was totally regardless of true architectural unity and expression: finding his shafts more massive than needful, but from the nature of his work, being without motive to reduce them to the limits of necessity, he spoilt their naturally fine expression by reducing their power without proportionably diminishing their general bulk, carving them into merely arbitrary, or, perhaps, symbolical forms. He was not, in the high sense of the word, an architect at all; and we have no further business with him, or with any of his class, of Mexico, Persepolis, China, or elsewhere, now that we have mentioned him and them as examples of what true architects

are not.

The Egyptian builder had open to him two ways of increasing his favourite architectural expression of material power and duration; of which the first and most obvious would be to increase the actual masses of his work, even beyond their original excess. When we look on the vast bulks of architrave and cornice, and on the low-roofed spaces beneath, crammed with stunted columns, set, like squares of infantry, almost as thick as they can stand, we cannot doubt that this source of effect, in the simple reality, was abundantly employed. But a much more effective and properly artistical method of attaining the desired object was discovered by adding, to mere mass, architecturally expres

sive forms. The form of the pyramid, reiterated and enforced with extraordinary labour and ingenuity, conferred an ostentation of permanence wherever it occurred; and the sentiment of power was vastly increased by the addition to gross bulk, of outlines indicative of weight,suffered, or violently resisted.

And first, of the pyramidal form, which was everywhere repeated, and which, in its boast of stability, seemed to defy the earthquake itself. The simple pyramid, though this assertion may sound paradoxical, affords but a weak expression of pyramidal form, when compared with that which is as much the leading feature of Egyptian architecture, as the pedimented porch is of Greek, or the spire of Northern Gothic, — namely, the vast double-towered Propylon. It has been shown by a contemporary Review, in an essay to which Mr. Ruskin himself directs attention, that, in this feature, the pyramidal form is emphasised by various and co-operating devices of multiplication and contrast. We may follow the design of this edifice from its first formal type, in the pure pyramid, by steps, each one of which is a means of rendering the pyramidal outline more impressive to the imagination. The pyramid is first truncated; then, and without destroying the integrity of its effect, it is divided into two secondary pyramidal masses, by an opening over the central doorway: the posts and lintels of this doorway rise from the inclined face of the wall, until they reach, or nearly reach, a perpendicular position, the sides of the aperture being parallel, and not convergent, as in the Greek entrances. On either side of this central doorway, which, by its upper projection and parallelism, throws the sloping walls into most effective contrast, there are commonly cavities like blank doorways, or merely long channels, incised perpendicularly in the pyramidal mass. These channels appear to have received perpendicular flag-staves, which rose above the top of the edifice, and acted, together with the cavities, in which their lower ends were hidden, as additional gauges of, and foils to, the slant of the wall. A cornice of the Propylon, always consisting of the hollow and impending moulding, called the cavetto,' crowns the pyramidal towers, and strikingly increases their general expression by a partial and comparatively insignificant violation of it. The angles of the building, where of course the pyramidal form is chiefly apparent to the eye, are strongly marked by a great roll moulding. Such are the main elements of an architectural effect, which is at the same time so simple and so powerful that a child, if he has once beheld it in one of Roberts's sketches, or, less perfectly, in the Hall in Piccadilly, can never forget it, though he might all his life be unable to account for it. The

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same or similar means were adopted for directing the eye to the pyramidal form in the other parts of the Egyptian temple. The outer walls, and it is worthy of remark that this must have been at a great expense of constructional convenience, — were sometimes inclined for pyramidal effect; they also received the peculiar impending cornice, and revealed, between their sloping sides, the vertical colonnade. A further contrast was brought out between the masonry, always and ostentatiously of a stupendous thickness, and the abundance of sculpture in extremely shallow relief; while, finally, in the most conspicuous place, and as the liveliest foil to the low-spreading and eternal bulk of the Temple-palace, rose the airy obelisk.

The presence of weight, besides suggesting itself significantly in the prevalence of shelving masonry, was unmistakably announced in the forms of columns, as well as in their superabundance. Where the Greek, who wished to express a widely different notion, carved his shaft into hollow channels or flutes, the Egyptian frequently carved upon his a somewhat similar decoration, but convex. The shafts, near the base, often exhibited a bulge, strongly indicative of sufferance from pressure; and the capitals, by a very ingenious formation, were made to denote violent resistance to superincumbent weight. Mr. Gwilt says, The use of the palm leaf in this situation (i. e. in the 'capitals of the columns) may have been derived from a popular notion mentioned by Plutarch (Symposiac. lib. vi. cap. 4.), 'that the palm tree rose under any weight that was placed upon 'it, and even in proportion to the degree of pressure it ex'perienced. This supposed peculiarity is also mentioned by 'Aulus Gellius (lib. iii. cap. 6.).' The same kind of unconscious testimony in favour of the views we are taking, is borne in another place by Mr. Gwilt, who, not entering into the spirit of their architecture, complains that Solidity is abused in the 'works of the Egyptians; and that the means employed seem 'always greater than the ends.'

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Three times our space would scarcely suffice for explaining the means employed in securing the remarkable character of Egyptian architecture; but in this, and throughout our examination of the series of great architectural styles, we must be contented with distinctly pointing out the principle on which their several details must be observed and judged.

We come now to the Greek architecture, in defence of which we have engaged to break a lance with the author of the 'Stones of Venice.' Mr. Ruskin tells us that the two virtues of architecture which we can justly weigh are, its strength, or good construction, and its beauty, or good decoration.' He

allows that there is a third virtue, which he calls 'expressional 'character;' but he seems to mean by this phrase much less than we think ought to be meant by it. It is not,' he says, 'possible to make expressional character any fair criterion of excellence in buildings. It is evident that we can establish no 'general laws concerning it. First, because it is not a virtue required in all buildings. Secondly, because there are

' countless methods of expression, some conventional, some ́ natural. . . . . The choice of conventional methods depends C on circumstances out of calculation, and that of natural methods on sensations out of control.' Mr. Ruskin leaves, therefore, the expression of buildings for incidental notice only,' and in doing this, if we mistake not, he does what almost amounts to leaving Hamlet out of the play. He gives us no room to hope that the details, which we understand as being means of architectural expression, will have justice done to them in his second volume, under the head of Decoration,' or 'Orna'ment.' It was, of course, impossible not to recognise the existence of many of these details, though we are surprised to find that most of them are passed over in silence. Of those that are recognised, the greater number are thrown into one or other of the two categories of construction and ornament, which are assumed to include all possible architectural elements. Now every one knows what the word construction' means, and there is no mistaking what Mr. Ruskin means by the word 'orna'ment.' He divides ornament into 'noble' and 'ignoble.' Ignoble ornament is imitative of man's work, as I. Instruments of art, agriculture and war, armour, and dress: II. Drapery III. Shipping: IV. Architecture itself.' Noble ornament is imitation of God's work,' of which the examples given as fitted for architectural adoption are too numerous for us to quote. If, then, Mr. Ruskin adheres faithfully to these first principles-and throughout the first volume of 'The Stones of Venice,' he has done so, it is pretty clear what ought to be his opinion of styles like the Egyptian and the Greek, in which construction is often, and decoration always, subordinated to an expression - the basis of their unity of which he takes no cognisance. Let the reader recall for a moment the Egyptian style, and its main features, which we have just enumerated and described. They certainly make a very poor figure as examples of either of Mr. Ruskin's virtues of architecture.' Most of them are caricatures and exaggerations of mere good 'construction;' and some of them, as the sloping walls and impending cornices, are absolute contradictions of it: nor are any of these features very striking examples of 'man's delight

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Mr. Ruskin's 'Virtues of Architecture.'

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' in God's work.' Nor do they answer at all to Mr. Ruskin's views of expressional character;' for they are thoroughly amenable to a general law, and are not at all dependent on 'circumstances out of calculation,' or on 'sensations out of con'trol.' Egyptian architecture is, therefore, put aside with a passing compliment, which, however, it can scarcely deserve, on Mr. Ruskin's principles. The Greek style is treated with more respect; though its decorative' system comes in for several brief, but vigorous attacks. Upon examination, it seems to us that all Mr. Ruskin's charges amount to this: the details of Greek architecture are not what they do not at all pretend to be. In matter of construction, certain minor features, as the fluting of the shaft, are condemned for being constructively bad, this being, as with the slope of the Egyptian wall, precisely a part of their merit, as vehicles of contrastive expression. And, as regards 'decoration' in Mr. Ruskin's sense of the term, there is no such thing in good Greek architecture, if we except the sculpture of the frieze and pediment, which should always be regarded apart from the architecture;--for we quite agree in Mr. Ruskin's doctrine, that No perfect piece either of painting or 'sculpture, is an architectural ornament at all, except in that vague sense in which any thing beautiful may be said to ornament the place it is in.' The Corinthian order, in which 'decoration,' as Mr. Ruskin understands it, makes its first appearance, is not properly a Greek order at all. In the famous Choragic monument of Lysicrates,' we certainly find the germ which was afterwards developed by the Greeks, working under Roman masters, into the order of temple architecture, called the 'Corinthian; but it is noteworthy that this germ took life amidst unmistakable signs of architectural degeneration, the edifice in question, for example, being a secular monument, consisting of a mock temple, mounted on a high pedestal, and itself officiating as a pedestal for the prize tripod.

Every detail of pure Greek architecture is actively engaged in announcing the facts of the upbearing power, and the burden which is upborne, and in expressing a just balance of the two forces. The antithetical comparison which is often made, between the verticality' of the Pointed, and the horizontality' of the Greek style, is quite without foundation. If this relationship exists any where, it is between the Pointed and the Egyptian architectures. In the Doric, and in a less degree in the Ionic style, the aspiring Gothic and the low and heavy Egyptian expressions are perfectly combined; the first expression breathing from every curve and cut of shaft and capital,-the latter showing itself, with surprising variety and power, in all the

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