"roof, supported on cast-iron columns ; "the ornaments of the spandrils are or "wrought-iron."

The roof now placed is the second that has been erected-a departure from the original plan of the architects having been ventured upon, and found to be a failure. The architects attempted, but without success, to have stone shafts substituted for the iron ones now employed. The wrought-iron spandrils represent large interwoven branches, with leaf and flower and fruit of various trees; and in various parts of the less important decorations, in the capitals, and nestled in the trefoils of the girders, are leaves of elm, briar, waterlily, passion-flower, ivy, holly, and many others, all adding to the peculiar effect of the decorations. The central court is surrounded by two arcades, one above the other the inferior level with the pavement. The roof springs from above the upper arcade or gallery, in which the shafts and arches are of less height than in the lower one. The cast-iron columns before referred to divide the central court into three portions—the middle one considerably the most extensive-in some respects like the nave and aisles of a church. Seen by one standing in the centre, looking from the entrance, the shafts are seven on either hand to the farther side of the area. Each of these shafts is composed of four shafts (grouped, but not otherwise united than by bands of iron at certain distances), resting on a stone base. The four grouped angleshafts differ in some respects from the others. At less than half of the total height of the nave, the spandrils leap from the caps, to take a very high lancet form, to meet from each side at the apex of the roof-ridge-the end, or, to speak loosely, the gable of which is sustained by the spandrils rising from the four angle shafts, so that the roof-ridge does not traverse the whole extent of the nave or the aisles. The end of this roof takes something of an apse-like form, owing to the introduction of intermediate spanners, which rests on corbels. Great picturesqueness of effect is gained through bringing the roof-pitch itself

much below the arches above-named by continuing the rafters of iron downwards so that they rest upon the heads of a second row of shafts of less height, the space between which and the former makes a sort of corridor dividing the nave and aisles; the roofs of which last are like, but of a less altitude than the central roof.

It will be seen that the area is thus divided into five portions. The walls of the building itself, of course, sustain on corbels the spanners of the aisle roof. Much of the construction may be understood from the form of the shafts

and their spanners. Let us take one. The four-grouped shafts meet at the cap, sending one central, upright and rigid stem to the roof, vertically nearly twice. the elevation of the cap. This meets a sort of cornice of wrought-iron, running horizontally so as to sustain, about midway of their length, the great rafters of iron that rest their lowermost ends upon the outer range of shafts before spoken of. The uppermost ends of these rafters meet at the roof-ridge. Returning to the caps a spanner like the rib of a groined roof springs from each to unite with its antagonist from the other side of the roof-ridge; these traverse the roof and the nave; and similar, but smaller, spanners perform the same office for the aisle roofs. Extending laterally from the caps-that is, sideways to the navearise two slender spanners to the trabeal beam before referred to as sustaining the rafters. The spandrils or triangular interspaces, formed by these spanners, the central rigid stem, and the trabeal beam, are filled in with rich forms of foliage wrought in iron to various designs. The caps of all the shafts are diverse.

The principle of diversity in unity has been carried out in all portions of this building-even in the presumably temporary painting of the ironwork; in certain forms of leafage in the capitals of the shafts that constitute the arcades; in the corbels; and, as we observe, even in the seemingly unimportant details of cabinet and carpenters' work, such as the fittings of the doors leading to the lecturers' rooms and the theatres. The

carvings of no two windows are alike; indeed, beyond the bare shell of the building, the utmost variety-soul of true Gothic as it is, for variety means freedom in art-has been sought after. It has been the object to leave to the power of each highly skilled artizan, as appears to have been the medieval practice, to whom aught of the decorative work was intrusted, an opening for his own idiosyncrasy to develop itself; so that, subordinate only to certain general rules, every carving, each point of ornament, may be called a labour of sheer love, in which the carver's heart was allowed to rejoice, and the man bent himself heartily and intelligently to do a good thing affectionately. A very different thing this, the reader will see, from the endless pointing of mechanical acanthi or torus mouldings fitted with a template of iron, or the dreary chiselling of endless rows of the so-called ram's-horns of the Ionic capital! Not such are the carvings here. The artizan has sought in the lush recesses of the neighbouring river-bank for crisp water plants, or those that love the margins and whip the stream; in the shady woods dank ferns have been found to be models of loveliest form; the humblest field weed has yielded up her shy beauty, and stands immortalized here in the stone; the lilies have an unchanging glory; the hillsideloving pine has bent her sturdy branches and been found delightful; while the wide-blooming marsh-mallow that tottered before the wind is here steadfast for ever. It requires very little consideration to recognise the infinitely greater delight there must be in such a building, not only to the spectators, but to the workman himself, than is like to be found in any endless series of acanthi, ram's-horns, or the like. Can we conceive a carver coming back to his work, after completion with templates, or machinery of that sort, with any satisfaction? There could be nothing to call him out of himself in such toil. But might not a carver come back to look at these tottering marsh-mallows, or dwell with a cunning satisfaction upon the artful way in which he dealt

with that aloe which so skilfully dodges the angle in the north-west corner of the lower arcade? It is true that none of this work is entirely satisfactory. Mere imitation and reproduction, however exquisite, is not the end of art— least of all, of architectonic decoration; and we miss a little of the needful conventionalizing suitable to architecture. But that in its best quality, must come, and, indeed, only can come, through a course of study such as that here shown to have been worthily begun. The reader will see that the word "conventionalizing" is used in a sense other than the vulgar one.

Nowhere, except in the rigid iron foliage filling in the spandrils, has this great principle of diversity been unsuccessfully applied. There, although great credit is due to the designers for the pains they have been at, the result is not satisfactory-doubtless, because the foliage seems to do nothing, and the rigid metal, strong to bear and serve, looks idly curling about and posturing in ineffectual graces. Moreover, there is something in the thing itself—this quasiforest that supports the roof of translucent glass, and indolently disports itself in the air-that is repulsive to us. We are not sure that the effect of the whole would not be hugely improved by putting a roof on the top of all this iron, and admitting the light by something like a clerestory at the summit of the wall. As it is, the very spanners, to say nothing of the iron foliage, come stark, and black, and opaque against the sky; they imprison the day in stern bars that seem to bind the sky and light in their opaque, unreflecting, and heavy bonds. No artifice of painting or colour can or ever will mend this. Sheer gilding would do the thing, undoubtedly-a process to which we fear the University would object as expensive. Certainly gilding would do the thing; because the lustre of gold reflects so much light that the dead opacity of the iron would be overcome to a great extent. Partial gilding would be useless.

The design of the aisles is far simpler, and, to our minds, more satisfactory

than that of the nave and its corridors. Their pitch is lower; the spanners take the form almost of a droparch; the look of service is evident from the absence of the foliage of iron, with its hard wintry aspect, but differing from that of a tree in winter, as the multitudinous twigs are absent which break the starkness of the boughs. Here the iron suggests the unpleasantness of a dead tree. With the best of judgment, the foliage has been made mostly of a palm-like form, whose natural rigidity is graceful; but, do it how you will, the whole seems a comparative failure, because it has no structural office to fulfil, and is mere ornament. In the side aisles the case is otherwise. The spanners are here doing their office of maintaining the roof; the construction is evidenced throughout; and repose of service gained, even by the lesser aspiration of the lower roof. Of these aisles the southern pleases us best, from its superior quiet cheerfulness; and, on inquiry into the cause of this effect-for at first it is not clear why one should be preferable to the other, their general aspect being substantially the samewe distinguish that much is due to the mere painting of the bars of the glass with a pale green colour, which harmonizes with the blue sky seen above.

The display of constructiveness, which we take as a good base on which to found a theory of architectural design, is most openly marked in the arcades that surround the area, giving access to the various departments of the Museum. The lowest of these arcades is like the cloister of a Gothic monastery. Here, it is understood, the original design of the architects is to be seen most fairly. The solid stone piers, with chamfered angles, receive from one to the other the feet of the discharging arches that bear the weight above; between each of these is a shaft of polished marble, whence spring the sides of the pointed arches themselves that form the openings of the arcade, whose opposite members rise from the inner side of the piers. We shall linger a while over these corbels and

capitals, because no part of the building has received so much attention, or marks so strongly the progress of art-intelligence in the minds of our artizans.

The

It will be understood that the round central shafts are composed of variously-coloured marbles, arranged upon a system which is characteristic of the edifice, and the thoughtfulness of its founders. The piers have chamfered angles; beneath the abacus of each lies a carved corbel; and the caps of the shafts are also carved. The arrangement of the subjects of these carvings is upon an intelligent system, upon which we need not enter here. interest of this portion of the subject lies in the fact that in it a special development of art-labour has taken place, exactly analogous to that of the Middle Ages. A class of men-limited to one or two families, at present-has appeared, who hold a position between the skilled artizan and the artist; their duty being to carve beautifully and design skilfully such details of a building as the architect may commit to their charge. With constant reference to nature, the carvers in question have done this here not to absolute perfection, but with singular felicity, which promises highly of future effort, when time and a wider practical education shall have developed the faculties of a whole class. Just as the mediæval carvers dwelt lovingly on the curling leaves of a plant, or dived deep into its bell, so these men have tenderly, cunningly, and lovingly studied natural forms, and reproduced them with marvellous fidelity and elaborateness upon these corbels and caps, and in other parts of the building.

We cannot do more than name a few of these carvings-not necessarily the best, but such as struck us as calling for attention. All are praiseworthy and infinitely above the level of similar modern works. On the west side, going northwards, is a beautiful example, studied from the elegant plant known as "Wake-Robin" (Sagittaria sagittifolia), placed on the corbel in the corner.

On the accompanying capital to the shaft in this opening is a bold carving of Alisma Plantago, an aquatic plant, amongst the roots of which are a snipe searching for prey, and a frog. Butomus umbellatus occupies the cap in the next opening, treated with extreme elegance. One of the most successful adaptations of natural form we have met with is in the cap of the third opening, showing the rigid spines of the date-palm, a serpent going amongst them, also birds pecking the fruit. Mr. Edward Whelan, the carver of the aloe which is on the corbel at the corner abutting on the north side of the quadrangle, has managed to treat the fleshy stiffness of that plant with extraordinary felicity in turning the chamfer of the pier-no easy task, be it understood. The same carver has wrought on the cap, in the second opening on the north side, the plant Sparganium ramosum, with great elegance, but with scarcely equal success; which may be due to the form of the cap's outline looking a little compressed, and is by no means due to the design or application of the plant, admirably composed as it is, and in its simple intricacy delightfully truthful. Whoever carved the arum (Calla Ethiopica) on the cap in the fourth opening on this side, with its great vessel of a flower, its rigid spike and crinkled leaves, did well. The cereals -wheat, barley, oats, Indian-corn-and sugar-cane, with sparrows among them, on the sixth cap, are rich, diversified and extremely bold, though a little heavy. Bromus, on the adjoining corbel, is beautiful. The mallow in the last corbel on this (north) side, which Mr. James O'Shea wrought, is exquisite for faithful rendering in the stone. Its soft-rounded forms, rich diversified outlines, and almost merry look are charming.

A mass of ferns on the cap here, by the same, is admirable. The hart'stongue fern, on the corbel opposed to the mallow, by the same, curls its fronds round, doubling its plume-like involutions, the featheriness of which is finely expressed. Nothing can be more intelligently faithful than these

works. On the east side, upon the cap of the third opening, is a difficult theme Thuja Siberica-which curves itself round the vase of the cap most beautifully. We may compare the rough rigours of Taxus baccata, on the cap of the sixth opening here, by Mr. John O'Shea, with the delicate success of Mr. Edward Whelan's Smilax sarsaparilla, in the following cap (going south), with its elegant leaves and silky-looking stem. The same hands worked the Dendrobium cap-first on the south side, going west-so deeply cut, with its ribbed leaves spreading out, and its pendent blooms. Several of the works of Mr. John O'Shea succeed these, upon the same side; and in them is noticeable a characteristic which indicates the possession of something like the feeling for conventionalized treatment of architectonic decoration, which we before said was needed to satisfy a higher demand than the mere love of reproduction, however elegant, exquisitely minute, and faithful it may be. Simpler in the general forms, chastened and more severe, at the same time with notably less luxuriance and delight of love in the "lush green the "lush green" than his competitors, Mr. John O'Shea seems to us to have seen something deeper into the needs of architectural art. Nor is it to be understood that these examples are less elegant than the before-mentioned carvings. Iris Germanica, on the cap of the fifth shaft on this side-where the systematized symmetry of the iris-bloom has been brought to each corner of the octangular cap, and the broad flag-like leaves are traced rather than carved upon the vase-indicates a reticence of skill which is, in our opinion, a worthy sign.

Before leaving this part of our subject, we may point out for admiration many beautiful carvings which are being wrought upon the exterior of this building, and suggest to the lovers of art and friends of science that they may encourage the one and help to glorify the other, by subscribing towards the completion of these, as well as the interior decorations. Subject to certain rules, many persons have undertaken to

complete a single window at their own. cost; some windows have been done by two or three conjointly. Simple and severe as the general forms of this edifice are, there is ample scope for many a year's employment of the carver's art upon its details. In the Middle Ages men did this. The minstrel's pillar in St. Mary's, Beverley, is a special instance; and known examples are innumerable. While we

are speaking of the inner quadrangle and its arcades, it should be stated that the brickwork stands bare at present above the openings, and that it is proposed, at some time or other, to fill these spaces with illustrative and appropriate frescoes, which may add the charm of colour to all this assemblage of art-decoration.

"On massive corbels, projecting from "the fronts of the piers, there are placed "the statues of the great men who first "discovered, or first brought to import"ant results, the several branches of "knowledge which the edifice is in"tended to promote. As those who "have laid deepest and widest the "foundations of science, Aristotle and "Bacon are set up at the portal" (in the quadrangle within). Mr. H. H. Armstead has carved the first; Mr. Woolner, with admirable art, the second. Leibnitz, Newton, Galileo, Davy, Priestley, Hippocrates, Harvey, and Watt, are by Mr. Munro. Linnæus was executed by Mr. J. L. Tupper. Many others are to follow, as funds allow. It must not be forgotten that these works have been executed by the sculptors named at prices which were anything but remunerative to them, and may be considered rather as offerings of enthusiasm than commissions by which the artists hoped to profit. Mr. Woolner is to produce a statue of George Stephenson for the same series. The bases of the shafts and pilasters in the lower arcade are carved, in a simple and characteristic manner, by the carvers who have executed the more elaborate portions of the same. Similar decorations are to be placed in the upper and lesser arcade; some of which are in progress. The openings of this arcade differ from that below, by presenting four instead of two

spaces looking into the quadrangle. Each fourth dividing mass is a square pier, which receives an iron spanner from the roof on a bold corbel, to be carved. Let us add that many beautiful photographs of the capitals above described have been published by Mr. R. Hills, Cornmarket Street, Oxford.

The cloisters or corridors themselves on the lower floor are in a simple state of bare bricks at present, but are ultimately to be painted in fresco or distemper. The openings of the arcade are here the only feature of ornamental character, excepting that the inner rib of the moulded groining takes some such aspect from its being serrated, having thereby the most extreme simplicity of the cheapest modern work, and the grave beauty of the Gothic cloister. From this corridor we can ascend to the upper arcade by the staircases which are in the north and south angles of the building, so disposed that access may be gained, from the main entrance on the west side, to the upper floor, without the necessity of traversing the central area. Ample space is gained for these staircases, by bold and picturesque bays being carried beyond the exterior angle of the building. Variety of exterior is, of course, thus secured. Three great lancet-lights illuminate the ascents, the roofs and landings of which are sustained, in each case, on an extremely elegant shaft of dark marble, which forms its cap (to be carved) about ten feet above the level of the upper floor. From this a double arch of plate tracery, pierced simply, is formed. This staircase lands us in the upper corridor, whose arcades look into the court. This is flat-roofed, open to the timbers; and from it we reach the reading-room of Radcliffe's Library and the principal Book Room, both of which are under lofty open-timbered roofs of decorated character, which are coloured with great taste in crimson, red, buff, and a dull purple, with quiet green introduced in the dormer-window frames. The walls by the windows are a pale green-blue. Some simple ornaments are painted upon the crown of the wall, immediately below the roof, by way of cornice.