in the palm-tree roof thus:
The transition from b to d does not appear difficult; but it seems to me, that between these, in England at least, the straight ridge, or one very nearly straight, came into use; and even one where the ridge descends towards the meeting of the groins.
LETTER VI.
EDIFICES OF PARIS.
Paris, June, 1816.
Methinks I hear you rejoice that my everlasting disquisitions about Gothic architecture must at length be nearly finished. Do not, however, be too sanguine, the subject may recur again when I move southward, and I suspect that you will pronounce on my architecture, as I do on the trees by the road sides; while you have it you will think it very tiresome, and wish it away, but when it is gone, the barrenness and emptiness of the remainder will make you wish the architecture back again. In the observations which I am now about to give you on the modern buildings of Paris, you will at least escape a multitude of doubts about dates. I shall follow the order of Le Grand and Landon’s Description de Paris et de ses Edifices, as their little prints may help me to recall my observations; and let me add, that the criticisms of these authors are usually very judicious. In their general observations they praise too highly to correspond with the impression of any taste not educated in France; in their details, they perhaps, censure too much to be safe guides to a person who has not studied the subject, because these criticisms occur in the descriptions of celebrated buildings, with whose merits, they take it for granted, that their readers are familiar.
The church of the Assumption is circular, 62 feet in diameter, and I suppose, 100 feet high; whatever may be its precise elevation, it is certainly much too high. The eight pair of pilasters which surround the lower part, are spaced unequally; four of the intervals being larger than the other four, in order to give ample room for the altar, the pulpit, and the doorways, and to suggest also something of the form of a cross. In the upper part the disposition is regular; the effect of this discordance is exceedingly bad. The Val de Grace has a rich appearance externally, the inside is a warehouse, and has not character enough to make much impression under such circumstances; it is the design of François Mansard, one of the most celebrated architects that France has produced, but not finished under his direction. The interior of the church of the Sorbonne is handsome, but they are now fitting it up as a workshop for a sculptor. The architect was Mercier, who built also for Cardinal Richelieu the old part of the Palais Royal.
The Dome of the Invalides is the masterpiece of Jules Hardouin Mansard. The church and hospital are from the designs of Liberal Bruant. A striking defect in its present state is, that the gilding of this dome terminates too abruptly. It insulates that part from the rest of the building, and from all other surrounding buildings; there is nothing to carry off the effect. On this consideration it would be better with less of this ornament, but it is an experiment which does not leave a doubt of the advantage of employing it externally, for the production of beauty and magnificence; and it is equally conclusive against Repton’s idea of gilding the dome of St. Paul’s, an operation which would not only produce a harsh spot, disagreeing with every thing around it, but would be in itself disagreeable. So much has been done at the Invalides, that it is easy to imagine the rest, and to perceive that no breaking down of the boundaries, no accessory edifices, also gilt, could make such a lump of metal pleasing. We learn then, that in thus employing gilding, we must take care not to dispose it in a too continuous and apparently solid mass; to apply it principally to one part of the building, but not to confine it there, but to let it re-appear in smaller quantities on some other parts; and, in a city, not to limit it to one edifice, but to let others in some degree partake of it. I say nothing of the expediency of gilding from the short duration of its splendour, which is quite another consideration. The inside of the church at the Invalides is heavy and displeasing. It has two stories of arched aisles in the height of the pilaster, both are low, but the upper is particularly so, and very awkward. The interior of the dome (which quite forms a second church) is rich and magnificent, but there is too much light, or rather perhaps, a great deal of the light is placed too low, and the painting and gilding are not well disposed. Externally, the merit is principally confined to the dome and its drum, which are very beautifully managed. As for the hospital, it has no beauty. A very whimsical idea occurs in the garret windows in the front of the building, which represent suits of armour with holes in the breast; a more palpable instance of bad taste can hardly be cited, since the artist has thus destroyed the idea of defence, which he appears to have intended to excite. We frequently see, in France, the garret windows highly ornamented. This has sometimes a good effect; but it is principally where the architecture retains something of the Gothic. In the Hotel de Clugny, which exhibits a good deal of that style, they are very richly decorated, and communicate a character of domestic architecture to the edifice, which is at once pleasing and proper; a peaceful dwelling should not look either like a church or a castle. I do not know whether it would be impossible to make the garret windows of importance in Roman architecture, but I have never seen it done successfully.
The church of the Quatre Nations, that is to say, the central building of the palace of the Institute, is neither handsome without, nor convenient within. Viewed externally it appears little, and I believe this is, in part, owing to the irregular disposition of the columns. The want of regularity destroys the idea of their being essential parts of the building, and they become mere ornaments, placed according to the caprice of the architect. The openings under the dome are also greatly too large, and this not only has the effect of diminishing the apparent size, but also communicates to the whole an appearance of disproportion. The front is ornamented by four lions, which supply as many threads of water: these are not inserted in the engraving of Le Grand’s work. The whole building together is certainly fine, but I think rather too low; and I have my usual complaint to make of the smallness of the centre, and of the high roofs to the pavilions. On the inside of the central building, the disposition of the galleries in recesses, on three sides of the dome, is not bad for effect when they are filled with people; but the spectators, who find themselves in so many holes in the wall, have reason to be dissatisfied.