Man, from the fact that he is the only intelligent being in creation,
desires to show his intelligence in his works. In order to do so he
makes them resemble himself in a measure, by impressing upon them the
characteristic of his intelligence, which is logic, and that of his
body, which is proportion. Architecture employs inorganic matter
alone--stone, marble, brick, iron, wood, when the sap has been dried out
of it and it ceases to be an organic substance; and yet, under the hand
of the architect, this inert matter expresses sentiments and feelings.
By subjecting it to the laws of order, symmetry, and proportion, in a
manner which appeals to the eye, he lends them a semblance of life and
an organism conceived after his own image. By this artificial
proportion, inert matter is raised to the dignity of the animal kingdom;
it is rendered eloquent and capable of expressing the soul of the
artist, and often that of a race.
But human monuments have still another point in common with the body.
Order, symmetry, and proportion are needed rigorously only on the
exterior. Within, general beauty no longer dominates, but individual
life. If we look at the interior of the human body we find no symmetry,
no arrangement but that demanded by the function of the organs. The
brain, it is true, has two symmetrical lobes, because the brain is
destined to a life of relation, to the life of intelligence. But in
their individual functions the life of the internal organs presents
another aspect. The stomach is a shapeless bag; the heart is a single
muscle which is not even placed in the centre; the left lung is longer
and narrower than the right; the spleen is a ganglion placed on the left
side without any corresponding organ; but all this mechanism, which
scientists consider wonderful in its irregularity, is hidden beneath a
layer of similar members which repeat each other and correspond at equal
distances from a central line, and constitute symmetry in animals,
beauty in man. Similar in this respect to the human body, architectural
monuments have a double life and a double aspect.
On the exterior, it is meet that they should be regular,
symmetrical--but symmetrical from left to right like man, not from top
to bottom nor from face to back. Their resemblance to man is further
shown by openings, which are as the eyes and ears of the persons who
inhabit them; their entrance occupies the centre of the edifice, as the
mouth is placed on the central line of the face; they have rounded or
angular forms according as they have been built to express strength, a
virile idea, or grace, a feminine one; lastly, they have proportion, for
there is a harmonious relation between their apparent members, and a
mutual dependence which subordinates the variety of the parts to the
unity of the whole, and which constitutes the necessary conditions of
the beautiful in art.
The interior is not subjected to the necessity for duplicate members, to
regularity of façade, nor to unity of appearance. Thus when the artist
who has designed the monument performs its autopsy,--so to say,--we see,
as in the human body, unequal dimensions, irregular shapes, disparities
which resemble disorder to the eye, but which constitute the
individuality of the edifice. Within reigns relative beauty, free, with
fixed rule; without reigns a necessary beauty subjected to its own laws.
In man, character is the soul's expression. In architecture, character
is the moral physiognomy o£ a building. As a portrait without character
is but a vain shadow of the person represented, so a monument which does
not appeal to the intelligence, which evokes no thought, is merely a
pile of stones, a body without a soul. The soul of architecture is the
thought it expresses.
Character tends towards beauty in man as well as in his works. If we
glance at human society, we see faces which appear to be nothing more
than a sketch. Parsimonious nature has given them only sufficient life
to move in a narrow circle; they are mere individuals; they represent
nothing but themselves. However, in the midst of the crowd, some men are
noticeable for an abundance of vitality, whom favorable events have
developed along their natural tendencies: they impersonate many
individuals in one; their unity is equal to numbers; for good or evil,
they have a character. In proportion as an individuality becomes more
enriched, more pronounced, it attains character; in proportion as
character loses its roughness it becomes beauty. This is also true of
architecture.