<p><span class="scs">XXVII.</span> First group. With the roll at the base (<i>b</i>, <SPAN href="#fig_63">Fig.
LXIII.</SPAN>). The chain of its succession is represented from 1
to 6, in <SPAN href="#plate_15">Plate XV.</SPAN>: 1 and 2 are the steps already gained, as in
<SPAN href="#fig_63">Fig. LXIII.</SPAN>; and in them the profile of cornice used is <i>a</i> of
<SPAN href="#plate_15">Plate XV.</SPAN>, or a refined condition of <i>b</i> of <SPAN href="#fig_5">Fig. V.</SPAN>, <SPAN href="#page069"></SPAN>, above.
Now, keeping the same refined profile, substitute the condition
of it, <i>f</i> of <SPAN href="#fig_5">Fig. V.</SPAN> (and there accounted for), above the roll
here, and you have 3, <SPAN href="#plate_15">Plate XV.</SPAN> This superadded abacus
was instantly felt to be harsh in its projecting angle; but you
know what to do with an angle when it is harsh. Use your
simplest chamfer on it (<i>a</i> or <i>b</i>, <SPAN href="#fig_53">Fig. LIII.</SPAN>, page 287, above),
but on the visible side only, and you have fig. 4, <SPAN href="#plate_15">Plate XV.</SPAN>
(the top stone being made deeper that you may have room to
chamfer it). Now this fig. 4 is the profile of Lombardic and
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page319"></SPAN>319</span>
Venetian early capitals and cornices, by tens of thousands;
and it continues into the late Venetian Gothic, with this only
difference, that as times advances, the vertical line at the top
of the original cornice begins to slope outwards, and through
a series of years rises like the hazel wand in the hand of a
diviner:—but how slowly! a stone dial which marches but 45
degrees in three centuries, and through the intermediate condition
5 arrives at 6, and so stays.</p>
<p>In tracing this chain I have kept all the profiles of the same
height in order to make the comparison more easy; the depth
chosen is about intermediate between that which is customary
in cornices on the one hand, which are often a little shorter,
and capitals on the other, which are often a little deeper.<SPAN name="FnAnchor_87" href="#Footnote_87"><span class="sp">87</span></SPAN>
And it is to be noted that the profiles 5 and 6 establish themselves
in capitals chiefly, while 4 is retained in cornices to the
latest times.</p>
<table style="float: right; width: auto;" summary="Illustration">
<tr>
<td class="caption">Fig. LXIV.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="figright1">
<SPAN name="fig_64"><ANTIMG src="images/img319.jpg" width-obs="250" height-obs="155" alt="Fig. LXIV." title="Fig. LXIV." /></SPAN></td>
</tr>
</table>
<p><span class="scs">XXVIII.</span> Second group (c, <SPAN href="#fig_63">Fig. LXIII.</SPAN>). If the lower
angle, which was quickly felt to be
hard, be rounded off, we have the
form <i>a</i>, <SPAN href="#fig_64">Fig. LXIV.</SPAN> The front of
the curved line is then decorated, as
we have seen; and the termination
of the decorated surface marked by
an incision, as in an ordinary chamfer,
as at <i>b</i> here. This I believe to
have been the simple origin of most of the Venetian ogee
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page320"></SPAN>320</span>
cornices; but they are farther complicated by the curves given
to the leafage which flows over them. In the ordinary Greek
cornices, and in <i>a</i> and <i>d</i> of <SPAN href="#plate_16">Plate XVI.</SPAN>, the decoration is
<i>incised</i> from the outside profile, without any suggestion of an
interior surface of a different contour. But in the leaf cornices
which follow, the decoration is represented as <i>overlaid</i>
on one of the early profiles, and has another outside contour
of its own; which is, indeed, the true profile of the cornice,
but beneath which, more or less, the simpler profile is seen
or suggested, which terminates all the incisions of the chisel.
This under profile will often be found to be some condition of
the type <i>a</i> or <i>b</i>, <SPAN href="#fig_64">Fig. LXIV.</SPAN>; and the leaf profile to be another
ogee with its fullest curve up instead of down, lapping over
the cornice edge above, so that the entire profile might be considered
as made up of two ogee curves laid, like packed herrings,
head to tail. Figures 8 and 9 of <SPAN href="#plate_15">Plate XV.</SPAN> exemplify
this arrangement. Fig. 7 is a heavier contour, doubtless composed
in the same manner, but of which I had not marked
the innermost profile, and which I have given here only to
complete the series which, from 7 to 12 inclusive, exemplifies
the gradual restriction of the leaf outline, from its boldest projection
in the cornice to its most modest service in the capital.
This change, however, is not one which indicates difference of
age, but merely of office and position: the cornice 7 is from
the tomb of the Doge Andrea Dandolo (1350) in St. Mark’s,
8 from a canopy over a door of about the same period, 9 from
the tomb of the Dogaressa Agnese Venier (1411), 10 from that
of Pietro Cornaro (1361),<SPAN name="FnAnchor_88" href="#Footnote_88"><span class="sp">88</span></SPAN> and 11 from that of Andrea Morosini
(1347), all in the church of San Giov. and Paola, all these
being cornice profiles; and, finally, 12 from a capital of the
Ducal Palace, of fourteen century work.</p>
<p><span class="scs">XXIX</span>. Now the reader will doubtless notice that in the
three examples, 10 to 12, the leaf has a different contour from
that of 7, 8, or 9. This difference is peculiarly significant. I
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page321"></SPAN>321</span>
have always desired that the reader should theoretically consider
the capital as a concentration of the cornice; but in practice
it often happens that the cornice is, on the contrary, an
unrolled capital; and one of the richest early forms of the
Byzantine cornice (not given in <SPAN href="#plate_15">Plate XV.</SPAN>, because its separate
character and importance require examination apart) is
nothing more than an unrolled continuation of the lower range
of acanthus leaves on the Corinthian capital. From this cornice
others appear to have been derived, like <i>e</i> in <SPAN href="#plate_16">Plate XVI.</SPAN>,
in which the acanthus outline has become confused with that
of the honeysuckle, and the rosette of the centre of the Corinthian
capital introduced between them; and thus their forms
approach more and more to those derived from the cornice
itself. Now if the leaf has the contour of 10, 11, or 12, <SPAN href="#plate_15">Plate
XV.</SPAN>, the profile is either actually of a capital, or of a cornice
derived from a capital; while, if the leaf have the contour of
7 or 8, the profile is either actually of a cornice or of a capital
derived from a cornice. Where the Byzantines use the acanthus,
the Lombards use the Persepolitan water-leaf; but the
connection of the cornices and capitals is exactly the same.</p>
<p><span class="scs">XXX.</span> Thus far, however, we have considered the characters
of profile which are common to the cornice and capital
both. We have now to note what farther decorative features
or peculiarities belong to the capital itself, or result from the
theoretical gathering of the one into the other.</p>
<p>Look back to <SPAN href="#fig_22">Fig. XXII.</SPAN>, <SPAN href="#page110"></SPAN>. The five types there
given, represented the five different methods of concentration
of the root of cornices, <i>a</i> of <SPAN href="#fig_5">Fig. V.</SPAN> Now, as many profiles
of cornices as were developed in <SPAN href="#plate_15">Plate XV.</SPAN> from this cornice
root, there represented by the dotted slope, so many may be
applied to each of the five types in <SPAN href="#fig_22">Fig. XXII.</SPAN>,—applied simply
in <i>a</i> and <i>b</i>, but with farther modifications, necessitated by
their truncations or spurs, in <i>c</i>, <i>d</i>, and <i>e</i>.</p>
<p>Then, these cornice profiles having been so applied in such
length and slope as is proper for capitals, the farther condition
comes into effect described in Chapter IX. <span class="scs">XXIV</span>., and any
one of the cornices in <SPAN href="#plate_15">Plate XV.</SPAN> may become the <i>abacus</i> of a
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page322"></SPAN>322</span>
capital formed out of any other, or out of itself. The infinity
of forms thus resultant cannot, as may well be supposed, be
exhibited or catalogued in the space at present permitted to
us: but the reader, once master of the principle, will easily be
able to investigate for himself the syntax of all examples that
may occur to him, and I shall only here, as a kind of exercise,
put before him a few of those which he will meet with most
frequently in his Venetian inquiries, or which illustrate points,
not hitherto touched upon, in the disposition of the abacus.</p>
<p><span class="scs">XXXI.</span> In <SPAN href="#plate_17">Plate XVII.</SPAN> the capital at the top, on the left
hand, is the rudest possible gathering of the plain Christian
Doric cornice, <i>d</i> of <SPAN href="#plate_15">Plate XV.</SPAN> The shaft is octagonal, and
the capital is not cut to fit it, but is square at the base; and
the curve of its profile projects on two of its sides more than
on the other two, so as to make the abacus oblong, in order to
carry an oblong mass of brickwork, dividing one of the upper
lights of a Lombard campanile at Milan. The awkward
stretching of the brickwork, to do what the capital ought to
have done, is very remarkable. There is here no second superimposed
abacus.</p>
<p><span class="scs">XXXII.</span> The figure on the right hand, at the top, shows the
simple but perfect fulfilment of all the requirements in which
the first example fails. The mass of brickwork to be carried
is exactly the same in size and shape; but instead of being
trusted to a single shaft, it has two of smaller area (compare
<SPAN href="#chap_8">Chap. VIII.</SPAN>, <span class="scs">XIII</span>.), and all the expansion necessary is now
gracefully attained by their united capitals, hewn out of one
stone. Take the section of these capitals through their angle,
and nothing can be simpler or purer; it is composed of 2, in
<SPAN href="#plate_15">Plate XV.</SPAN>, used for the capital itself, with <i>c</i> of <SPAN href="#fig_63">Fig. LXIII.</SPAN>
used for the abacus; the reader could hardly have a neater
little bit of syntax for a first lesson. If the section be taken
through the side of the bell, the capital profile is the root of
cornices, <i>a</i> of <SPAN href="#fig_5">Fig. V.</SPAN>, with the added roll. This capital is
somewhat remarkable in having its sides perfectly straight,
some slight curvature being usual on so bold a scale; but it is
all the better as a first example, the method of reduction being
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page323"></SPAN>323</span>
of order <i>d</i>, in <SPAN href="#fig_22">Fig. XXII.</SPAN>, <SPAN href="#page110"></SPAN>, and with a concave cut, as
in <SPAN href="#fig_21">Fig. XXI.</SPAN>, <SPAN href="#page109"></SPAN>. These two capitals are from the cloister
of the duomo of Verona.</p>
<table class="nobctr" style="clear: both; " summary="Illustration">
<tr>
<td class="caption1">XVII.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="figcenter">
<SPAN name="plate_17"><ANTIMG src="images/img323a.jpg" width-obs="417" height-obs="650" alt="CAPITALS." title="CAPITALS." /></SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="caption">CAPITALS.<br/>
<span class="f80">CONCAVE GROUP.</span></td>
</tr>
</table>
<table class="nobctr" style="clear: both; " summary="Illustration">
<tr>
<td class="caption1">Fig. LXV.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="figcenter2">
<SPAN name="fig_65"><ANTIMG src="images/img323b.jpg" width-obs="600" height-obs="271" alt="Fig. LXV." title="Fig. LXV." /></SPAN></td>
</tr>
</table>
<p><span class="scs">XXXIII</span>. The lowermost figure in <SPAN href="#plate_17">Plate XVII.</SPAN> represents
an exquisitely finished example of the same type, from St.
Zeno of Verona. Above, at 2, in <SPAN href="#plate_2">Plate II.</SPAN>, the plan of the
shafts was given, but I inadvertently reversed their position:
in comparing that plan with <SPAN href="#plate_17">Plate XVII.</SPAN>, <SPAN href="#plate_2">Plate II.</SPAN> must be
held upside down. The capitals, with the band connecting
them, are all cut out of one block; their profile is an adaptation
of 4 of <SPAN href="#plate_15">Plate XV.</SPAN>, with a plain headstone superimposed.
This method of reduction is that of order <i>d</i> in <SPAN href="#fig_22">Fig. XXII.</SPAN>,
but the peculiarity of treatment of their truncation is highly
interesting. <SPAN href="#fig_65">Fig. LXV.</SPAN> represents the plans of the capitals
at the base, the shaded parts being the bells: the open line,
the roll with its connecting band. The bell of the one, it will
be seen, is the exact reverse of that of the other: the angle
truncations are, in both, curved horizontally as well as uprightly;
but their curve is convex in the one, and in the other
concave. <SPAN href="#plate_17">Plate XVII.</SPAN> will show the effect of both, with the
farther incisions, to the same depth, on the flank of the one
with the concave truncation, which join with the rest of its
singularly bold and keen execution in giving the impression
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page324"></SPAN>324</span>
of its rather having been cloven into its form by the sweeps of
a sword, than by the dull travail of a chisel. Its workman
was proud of it, as well he might be: he has written his name
upon its front (I would that more of his fellows had been as
kindly vain), and the goodly stone proclaims for ever, <span class="scs">ADAMINUS
DE SANCTO GIORGIO ME FECIT</span>.</p>
<p><span class="scs">XXXIV.</span> The reader will easily understand that the gracefulness
of this kind of truncation, as he sees it in <SPAN href="#plate_17">Plate XVII.</SPAN>,
soon suggested the idea of reducing it to a vegetable outline,
and laying four healing leaves, as it were, upon the wounds
which the sword had made. These four leaves, on the truncations
of the capital, correspond to the four leaves which we
saw, in like manner, extend themselves over the spurs of the
base, and, as they increase in delicacy of execution, form one
of the most lovely groups of capitals which the Gothic workmen
ever invented; represented by two perfect types in the
capitals of the Piazzetta columns of Venice. But this pure
group is an isolated one; it remains in the first simplicity of its
conception far into the thirteenth century, while around it rise
up a crowd of other forms, imitative of the old Corinthian,
and in which other and younger leaves spring up in luxuriant
growth among the primal four. The varieties of their grouping
we shall enumerate hereafter: one general characteristic of
them all must be noted here.</p>
<p><span class="scs">XXXV.</span> The reader has been told repeatedly<SPAN name="FnAnchor_89" href="#Footnote_89"><span class="sp">89</span></SPAN> that there
are two, and only two, real orders of capitals, originally represented
by the Corinthian and the Doric; and distinguished by
the concave or convex contours of their bells, as shown by the
dotted lines at <i>e</i>, <SPAN href="#fig_5">Fig. V.</SPAN>, <SPAN href="#page065"></SPAN>. And hitherto, respecting the
capital, we have been exclusively concerned with the methods
in which these two families of simple contours have gathered
themselves together, and obtained reconciliation to the abacus
above, and the shaft below. But the last paragraph introduces
us to the surface ornament disposed upon these, in the chiselling
of which the characters described above, <span class="scs">XXVIII</span>., which
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page325"></SPAN>325</span>
are but feebly marked in the cornice, boldly distinguish and
divide the families of the capital.</p>
<p><span class="scs">XXXVI.</span> Whatever the nature of the ornament be, it must
clearly have relief of some kind, and must present projecting
surfaces separated by incisions. But it is a very material question
whether the contour, hitherto broadly considered as that
of the entire bell, shall be that of the <i>outside</i> of the projecting
and relieved ornaments, or of the <i>bottoms of the incisions</i>
which divide them; whether, that is to say, we shall first cut
out the bell of our capital quite smooth, and then cut farther
into it, with incisions, which shall leave ornamental forms in
relief, or whether, in originally cutting the contour of the bell,
we shall leave projecting bits of stone, which we may afterwards
work into the relieved ornament.</p>
<p><span class="scs">XXXVII.</span> Now, look back to <SPAN href="#fig_5">Fig. V.</SPAN>, <SPAN href="#page065"></SPAN>. Clearly, if to
ornament the already hollowed profile, <i>b</i>, we cut deep incisions
into it, we shall so far weaken it at the top, that it will nearly
lose all its supporting power. Clearly, also, if to ornament
the already bulging profile <i>c</i> we were to leave projecting pieces
of stone outside of it, we should nearly destroy all its relation
to the original sloping line X, and produce an unseemly and
ponderous mass, hardly recognizable as a cornice profile. It is
evident, on the other hand, that we can afford to cut into this
profile without fear of destroying its strength, and that we can
afford to leave projections outside of the other, without fear of
destroying its lightness. Such is, accordingly, the natural disposition
of the sculpture, and the two great families of capitals
are therefore distinguished, not merely by their concave and
convex contours, but by the ornamentation being left outside
the bell of the one, and cut into the bell of the other; so that,
in either case, the ornamental portions will fall <i>between the
dotted lines</i> at <i>e</i>, <SPAN href="#fig_5">Fig. V.</SPAN>, and the pointed oval, or vesica piscis,
which is traced by them, may be called the Limit of ornamentation.</p>
<p><span class="scs">XXXVIII.</span> Several distinctions in the quantity and style of
the ornament must instantly follow from this great distinction
in its position. First, in its quantity. For, observe: since in
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page326"></SPAN>326</span>
the Doric profile, <i>c</i> of <SPAN href="#fig_5">Fig. V.</SPAN>, the contour itself is to be composed
of the surface of the ornamentation, this ornamentation
must be close and united enough to form, or at least suggest, a
continuous surface; it must, therefore, be rich in quantity and
close in aggregation; otherwise it will destroy the massy character
of the profile it adorns, and approximate it to its opposite,
the concave. On the other hand, the ornament left projecting
from the concave, must be sparing enough, and dispersed
enough, to allow the concave bell to be clearly seen beneath it;
otherwise it will choke up the concave profile, and approximate
it to its opposite, the convex.</p>
<p><span class="scs">XXXIX</span>. And, secondly, in its style. For, clearly, as the
sculptor of the concave profile must leave masses of rough
stone prepared for his outer ornament, and cannot finish them
at once, but must complete the cutting of the smooth bell
beneath first, and then return to the projecting masses (for if
he were to finish these latter first, they would assuredly, if
delicate or sharp, be broken as he worked on; since, I say, he
must work in this foreseeing and predetermined method, he is
sure to reduce the system of his ornaments to some definite
symmetrical order before he begins); and the habit of conceiving
beforehand all that he has to do, will probably render him not
only more orderly in its arrangement, but more skilful and
accurate in its execution, than if he could finish all as he
worked on. On the other hand, the sculptor of the convex
profile has its smooth surface laid before him, as a piece of
paper on which he can sketch at his pleasure; the incisions he
makes in it are like touches of a dark pencil; and he is at
liberty to roam over the surface in perfect freedom, with light
incisions or with deep; finishing here, suggesting there, or
perhaps in places leaving the surface altogether smooth. It is
ten to one, therefore, but that, if he yield to the temptation, he
becomes irregular in design, and rude in handling; and we
shall assuredly find the two families of capitals distinguished,
the one by its symmetrical, thoroughly organised, and exquisitely
executed ornament, the other by its rambling, confused,
and rudely chiselled ornament: But, on the other hand, while
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page327"></SPAN>327</span>
we shall often have to admire the disciplined precision of the
one, and as often to regret the irregular rudeness of the other,
we shall not fail to find balancing qualities in both. The
severity of the disciplinarian capital represses the power of the
imagination; it gradually degenerates into Formalism; and
the indolence which cannot escape from its stern demand of
accurate workmanship, seeks refuge in copyism of established
forms, and loses itself at last in lifeless mechanism. The license
of the other, though often abused, permits full exercise to the
imagination: the mind of the sculptor, unshackled by the
niceties of chiselling, wanders over its orbed field in endless
fantasy; and, when generous as well as powerful, repays the
liberty which has been granted to it with interest, by developing
through the utmost wildness and fulness of its thoughts, an
order as much more noble than the mechanical symmetry of
the opponent school, as the domain which it regulates is
vaster.</p>
<table class="nobctr" style="clear: both; " summary="Illustration">
<tr>
<td class="caption1">XVIII.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="figcenter">
<SPAN name="plate_18"><ANTIMG src="images/img327.jpg" width-obs="401" height-obs="650" alt="CAPITALS." title="CAPITALS." /></SPAN></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="caption">CAPITALS.<br/>
<span class="f80">CONVEX GROUP.</span></td>
</tr>
</table>
<p><span class="scs">XL.</span> And now the reader shall judge whether I had not
reason to cast aside the so-called Five orders of the Renaissance
architects, with their volutes and fillets, and to tell him that
there were only two real orders, and that there could never be
more.<SPAN name="FnAnchor_90" href="#Footnote_90"><span class="sp">90</span></SPAN> For we now find that these two great and real orders
are representative of the two great influences which must for
ever divide the heart of man: the one of Lawful Discipline,
with its perfection and order, but its danger of degeneracy
into Formalism; the other of Lawful Freedom, with its vigor
and variety, but its danger of degeneracy into Licentiousness.</p>
<p><span class="scs">XLI.</span> I shall not attempt to give any illustrations here of
the most elaborate developments of either order; they will be better
given on a larger scale: but the examples in <SPAN href="#plate_17">Plate XVII.</SPAN> and
XVIII. represent the two methods of ornament in their earliest
appliance. The two lower capitals in <SPAN href="#plate_17">Plate XVII.</SPAN> are a pure
type of the concave school; the two in the centre of <SPAN href="#plate_18">Plate
XVIII.</SPAN>, of the convex. At the top of <SPAN href="#plate_18">Plate XVIII.</SPAN> are two
Lombardic capitals; that on the left from Sta. Sofia at Padua,
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page328"></SPAN>328</span>
that on the right from the cortile of St. Ambrogio at Milan.
They both have the concave angle truncation; but being of
date prior to the time when the idea of the concave bell was
developed, they are otherwise left square, and decorated with
the surface ornament characteristic of the convex school. The
relation of the designs to each other is interesting; the cross
being prominent in the centre of each, but more richly relieved
in that from St. Ambrogio. The two beneath are from the
southern portico of St. Mark’s; the shafts having been of different
lengths, and neither, in all probability, originally intended
for their present place, they have double abaci, of which
the uppermost is the cornice running round the whole fa�ade.
The zigzagged capital is highly curious, and in its place very
effective and beautiful, although
one of the exceptions which it
was above noticed that we should
sometimes find to the law stated
in <span class="scs">XV.</span> above.</p>
<table style="float: left; width: auto;" summary="Illustration">
<tr>
<td class="caption1">Fig. LXVI.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="figleft2">
<SPAN name="fig_66"><ANTIMG src="images/img328.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="293" alt="Fig. LXVI." title="Fig. LXVI." /></SPAN></td>
</tr>
</table>
<p><span class="scs">XLII.</span> The lower capital,
which is also of the true convex
school, exhibits one of the conditions
of the spurred type, <i>e</i> of
<SPAN href="#fig_22">Fig. XXII.</SPAN>, respecting which one
or two points must be noticed.</p>
<p>If we were to take up the
plan of the simple spur, represented
at <i>e</i> in <SPAN href="#fig_22">Fig. XXII.</SPAN>, <SPAN href="#page110"></SPAN>, and treat it, with the salvia
leaf, as we did the spur of the base, we should have for the
head of our capital a plan like <SPAN href="#fig_66">Fig. LXVI.</SPAN>, which is actually
that of one of the capitals of the Fondaco de’ Turchi at Venice;
with this only difference, that the intermediate curves between
the spurs would have been circular: the reason they are not so,
here, is that the decoration, instead of being confined to the
spur, is now spread over the whole mass, and contours are
therefore given to the intermediate curves which fit them for
this ornament; the inside shaded space being the head of the
shaft, and the outer, the abacus. The reader has in <SPAN href="#fig_66">Fig. LXVI.</SPAN>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page329"></SPAN>329</span>
a characteristic type of the plans of the spurred capitals,
generally preferred by the sculptors of the convex school, but
treated with infinite variety, the spurs often being cut into
animal forms, or the incisions between them multiplied, for
richer effect; and in our own Norman capital the type <i>c</i> of
<SPAN href="#fig_22">Fig. XXII.</SPAN> is variously subdivided by incisions on its slope,
approximating in general effect to many conditions of the real
spurred type, <i>e</i>, but totally differing from them in principle.</p>
<table class="nobctr" style="clear: both; " summary="Illustration">
<tr>
<td class="caption1">Fig. LXVII.</td>
<td class="caption1">Fig. LXVIII.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="figcenter2">
<SPAN name="fig_67"><ANTIMG src="images/img329a.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="286" alt="Fig. LXVII." title="Fig. LXVII." /></SPAN></td>
<td class="figcenter2">
<SPAN name="fig_68"><ANTIMG src="images/img329b.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="298" alt="Fig. LXVIII." title="Fig. LXVIII." /></SPAN></td>
</tr>
</table>
<p><span class="scs">XLIII</span>. The treatment of the spur in the concave school is
far more complicated, being borrowed in nearly every case
from the original Corinthian. Its plan may be generally
represented by <SPAN href="#fig_67">Fig. LXVII.</SPAN> The spur itself is carved into
a curling tendril or concave leaf, which supports the projecting
angle of a four-sided abacus, whose hollow sides fall back
behind the bell, and have generally a rosette or other ornament
in their centres. The medi�val architects often put
another square abacus above all, as represented by the shaded
portion of <SPAN href="#fig_67">Fig. LXVII.</SPAN>, and some massy conditions of this
form, elaborately ornamented, are very beautiful; but it is apt
to become rigid and effeminate, as assuredly it is in the original
Corinthian, which is thoroughly mean and meagre in its upper
tendrils and abacus.</p>
<p><span class="scs">XLIV</span>. The lowest capital in <SPAN href="#plate_18">Plate XVIII.</SPAN> is from St.
Mark’s, and singular in having double spurs; it is therefore to
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page330"></SPAN>330</span>
be compared with the doubly spurred base, also from St Mark’s,
in <SPAN href="#plate_11">Plate XI.</SPAN> In other respects it is a good example of the
union of breadth of mass with subtlety of curvature, which
characterises nearly all the spurred capitals of the convex
school. Its plan is given in <SPAN href="#fig_68">Fig. LXVIII.</SPAN>: the inner shaded
circle is the head of the shaft; the white cross, the bottom
of the capital, which expands itself into the external shaded
portions at the top. Each spur, thus formed, is cut like a
ship’s bow, with the Doric profile; the surfaces so obtained
are then charged with arborescent ornament.</p>
<p><span class="scs">XLV.</span> I shall not here farther exemplify the conditions of
the treatment of the spur, because I am afraid of confusing the
reader’s mind, and diminishing the distinctness of his conception
of the differences between the two great orders, which it
has been my principal object to develope throughout this
chapter. If all my readers lived in London, I could at once
fix this difference in their minds by a simple, yet somewhat
curious illustration. In many parts of the west end of London,
as, for instance, at the corners of Belgrave Square, and
the north side of Grosvenor Square, the Corinthian capitals of
newly-built houses are put into cages of wire. The wire cage
is the exact form of the typical capital of the convex school;
the Corinthian capital, within, is a finished and highly decorated
example of the concave. The space between the cage
and capital is the limit of ornamentation.</p>
<p><span class="scs">XLVI.</span> Those of my readers, however, to whom this illustration
is inaccessible, must be content with the two profiles,
13 and 14, on <SPAN href="#plate_15">Plate XV.</SPAN> If they will glance along the line
of sections from 1 to 6, they will see that the profile 13 is their
final development, with a superadded cornice for its abacus. It
is taken from a capital in a very important ruin of a palace,
near the Rialto of Venice, and hereafter to be described; the
projection, outside of its principal curve, is the profile of its
<i>superadded</i> leaf ornamentation; it may be taken as one of the
simplest, yet a perfect type of the concave group.</p>
<p><span class="scs">XLVII.</span> The profile 14 is that of the capital of the main
shaft of the northern portico of St. Mark’s, the most finished
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page331"></SPAN>331</span>
example I ever met with of the convex family, to which, in
spite of the central inward bend of its profile, it is marked as
distinctly belonging, by the bold convex curve at its root,
springing from the shaft in the line of the Christian Doric
cornice, and exactly reversing the structure of the other profile,
which rises from the shaft, like a palm leaf from its
stem. Farther, in the profile 13, the innermost line is that
of the bell; but in the profile 14, the outermost line is that
of the bell, and the inner line is the limit of the incisions of
the chisel, in undercutting a reticulated veil of ornament, surrounding
a flower like a lily; most ingeniously, and, I hope,
justly, conjectured by the Marchese Selvatico to have been intended
for an imitation of the capitals of the temple of Solomon,
which Hiram made, with “nets of checker work, and
wreaths of chain work for the chapiters that were on the top
of the pillars ... and the chapiters that were upon the top of
the pillars were of lily work in the porch.” (1 Kings, vii. 17,
19.)</p>
<p><span class="scs">XLVIII.</span> On this exquisite capital there is imposed an
abacus of the profile with which we began our investigation
long ago, the profile <i>a</i> of <SPAN href="#fig_5">Fig. V.</SPAN> This abacus is formed by
the cornice already given, <i>a</i>, of <SPAN href="#plate_16">Plate XVI.</SPAN>: and therefore we
have, in this lovely Venetian capital, the summary of the results
of our investigation, from its beginning to its close: the
type of the first cornice; the decoration of it, in its emergence
from the classical models; the gathering into the capital; the
superimposition of the secondary cornice, and the refinement
of the bell of the capital by triple curvature in the two limits
of chiselling. I cannot express the exquisite refinements of
the curves on the small scale of <SPAN href="#plate_15">Plate XV.</SPAN>; I will give them
more accurately in a larger engraving; but the scale on which
they are here given will not prevent the reader from perceiving,
and let him note it thoughtfully, that the outer curve
of the noble capital is the one which was our first example of
associated curves; that I have had no need, throughout the
whole of our inquiry, to refer to any other ornamental line
than the three which I at first chose, the simplest of those
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page332"></SPAN>332</span>
which Nature set by chance before me; and that this lily, of
the delicate Venetian marble, has but been wrought, by the
highest human art, into the same line which the clouds disclose,
when they break from the rough rocks of the flank of the
Matterhorn.</p>
<hr class="foot" />
<div class="note">
<p><SPAN name="Footnote_84" href="#FnAnchor_84"><span class="fn">84</span></SPAN> In very early Doric it was an absolute right line; and that capital is
therefore derived from the pure cornice root, represented by the dotted line.</p>
<p><SPAN name="Footnote_85" href="#FnAnchor_85"><span class="fn">85</span></SPAN> The word banded is used by Professor Willis in a different sense;
which I would respect, by applying it in his sense always to the Impost,
and in mine to the capital itself. (This note is not for the general reader,
who need not trouble himself about the matter.)</p>
<p><SPAN name="Footnote_86" href="#FnAnchor_86"><span class="fn">86</span></SPAN> The Renaissance period being one of return to formalism on the one
side, of utter licentiousness on the other, so that sometimes, as here, I have
to declare its lifelessness, at other times (<SPAN href="#chap_25">Chap. XXV.</SPAN>, <span class="scs">XVII</span>.) its lasciviousness.
There is, of course, no contradiction in this: but the reader
might well ask how I knew the change from the base 11 to the base 12, in
<SPAN href="#plate_12">Plate XII.</SPAN>, to be one from temperance to luxury; and from the cornice <i>f</i>
to the cornice <i>g</i>, in <SPAN href="#plate_16">Plate XVI.</SPAN>, to be one from formalism to vitality. I
know it, both by certain internal evidences, on which I shall have to dwell
at length hereafter, and by the context of the works of the time. But the
outward signs might in both ornaments be the same, distinguishable only
as signs of opposite tendencies by the event of both. The blush of shame
cannot always be told from the blush of indignation.</p>
<p><SPAN name="Footnote_87" href="#FnAnchor_87"><span class="fn">87</span></SPAN> The reader must always remember that a cornice, in becoming a
capital, must, if not originally bold and deep, have depth added to its profile,
in order to reach the just proportion of the lower member of the shaft
head; and that therefore the small Greek egg cornices are utterly incapable
of becoming capitals till they have totally changed their form and depth.
The Renaissance architects, who never obtained hold of a right principle
but they made it worse than a wrong one by misapplication, caught the
idea of turning the cornice into a capital, but did not comprehend the
necessity of the accompanying change of depth. Hence we have pilaster
heads formed of small egg cornices, and that meanest of all mean heads
of shafts, the coarse Roman Doric profile chopped into a small egg and
arrow moulding, both which may be seen disfiguring half the buildings in
London.</p>
<p><SPAN name="Footnote_88" href="#FnAnchor_88"><span class="fn">88</span></SPAN> I have taken these dates roughly from Selvatico; their absolute accuracy
to within a year or two, is here of no importance.</p>
<p><SPAN name="Footnote_89" href="#FnAnchor_89"><span class="fn">89</span></SPAN> <SPAN href="#chap_1">Chap. I.</SPAN> <span class="scs">XIX</span>., <SPAN href="#app_7">Appendix 7</SPAN>: and <SPAN href="#chap_6">Chap. VI.</SPAN> <span class="scs">V</span>.</p>
<p><SPAN name="Footnote_90" href="#FnAnchor_90"><span class="fn">90</span></SPAN> <SPAN href="#chap_1">Chap. I.</SPAN>, <span class="scs">XIX</span>.</p>
</div>
<hr class="art" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page333"></SPAN>333</span></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />