LEE YANG YANG

architect, artist, academic


Archive for July, 2020

LEON BATTISTA ALBERTI – ON THE ART OF BUILDING

THE ARCHITECTURE OF LEON BATISTA ALBERTI IN TEN BOOKS

LEON BATTISTA ALBERTI

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On ribbon: “May it [he?] gleam with the greatest beauty.

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THE

PREFACE.

Our Ancestors have left us many and various Arts tending to the Pleasure and
Conveniency of Life, acquired with the greatest Industry and Diligence:

Which Arts, though they all pretend, with a Kind of Emulation, to have in

View the great End of being serviceable to Mankind; yet we know that each

of them in particular has something in it that seems to promise a distinct and

s parate Fruit: Some Arts we follow for Necessity, some we approve for their

Usefulness, and some we esteem because they lead us to the Knowledge of Things that are de-

lightsul. What these Arts are, it is not necessary for me to enumerate; for they arc obvious.

But if you take a View of the whole Circle of Arts, you shall hardly find one but what, despis-
ing all others, regards and seeks only its own particular – Ends: Or if you do meet with any of
such a Nature that you can in no wise do without it, and which yet brings along with it Pro-
sit at the same Time, conjoined with Pleasure and Honour, you will, I believe, be convinced,
that Architecture is not to be excluded from that Number. For it is certain, if you examine
the Matter carefully, it is inexpressibly delightful, and of the greatest Convenience to Mankind
in all Respects, both publick and private; and in Dignity not inferior to the most excellent. But
before I proceed further, it will not be improper to explain what he is that I allow to be an
Architect: For it is not a Carpenter or a Joiner that I thus rank with the greatest Masters in
other Sciences; the manual Operator being no more than an Instrument to the Architect.

Him I call an Architect, who, by sure and wonderful Art and Method, is able, both with
Thought and Invention, to devise, and, with Execution, to compleat all those Works, which,
by means of the Movement of great Weights, and the Conjunction and Amassment of Bodies,
can, with the greatest Beauty, be adapted to the Uses of Mankind: And to be able to do this,
he must have a thorough Insight into the noblest and most curious Sciences. Such must be the
Architect. But to return.

SOME have been of Opinion, that either Water or Fire were the principal Occasions of bring-
ing Men together into Societies; but to us, who consider the Usefulness and Necessity of Co-
verings and Walls, it seems evident, that they were the chief Causes of assembling Men toge-
ther. But the only Obligation we have to the Architect is not for his providing us with safe
and pleasant Places, where we may shelter ourselves from the Heat of the Sun, from Cold and
Tempest, (though this is no small Benefit); but for having besides contrived many other
Things, both of a private and publick Nature of the highest Use and Convenience to the Life
of Man. How many noble Families, reduced by the Calamity of the Times, had been utterly
lost, both in our own native City, and in others, had not their paternal Habitations preserved
and cherished them, as it were, in the Bosom of their Forefathers. Dcedalus in his Time was
greatly esteemed for having made the Selinuntians a Vault, which gathered so warm and kindly
a Vapour, as provoked a plentiful Sweat, and thereby cured their Distempers with great Ease

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and Pleasure. Why need I mention others who have contrived many Things of the like Sort
conducive to Health; as Places for Exercise, for Swimming, Baths and the like? Or why
should I instance in Vehicles, Mills, Time-measures, and other such minute Things, which
nevertheless are of great Use in Life? Why should I insist upon the great Plenty of Waters
brought from the most remote and hidden Places, and employed to so many different and use-
ful Purposes? Upon Trophies, Tabernacles, sacred Edifices, Churches and the like, adapted

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to divine Worship, and the Service of Posterity? Or lastly, why should I mention the Rocks
cut. Mountains bored through, Vallies filled up. Lakes confined, Marshes discharged into the
Sea, Shi s built. Rivers turned, their Mouths cleared. Bridges laid over them. Harbours formed,
not only serving to Men’ s immediate Conveniencies, but also opening them a Way to all Parts
of the World; whereby Men have been enabled mutually to furnish one ano her with Provisi-
ons, Spices, Gems, and to communicate their Knowledge, and whatever else is healthful or
pleasurable. Add to these the Engines and Machines of War, Fortresses, and the like Inventi-
ons necessary to the Defending the Liberty of our Country, Maintaining the Honour, and En-
creasing the Greatness of a City, and to the Acquisition and Establishment of an Empire. I
am really persuaded, that if we were to enquire of all the Cities which, within the Memory of
Man, have fallen by Siege into the Power of new Masters, who it was that subjected and over-
came them, they would tell you, the Architect; and that they were strong enough to have
despised the armed Enemy, but not to withstand the Shocks of the Engines, the Violence of
the Machines, and the Force of the other Instruments of War, with which the Architect dis-
tressed, demolished and ruinated them. And the Besieged, on the contrary, would inform
you, that their greatest Defence lay in the Art and Assistance of the Architect. And if you
were to examine into the Expeditions that have been undertaken, you would go near to find
that most of the Victories were gained more by the Art and Skill of the Architects, than by the
Conduct or Fortune of the Generals; and that the Enemy was oftener overcome and conquered
by the Architect’ s Wit, without the Captain’ s Arms, than by the Captain’ s Arms without the
Architect’ s Wit: And what is of great Consequence is, that the Architect conquers with a
small Number of Men, and without the Loss of Troops. Let this suffice as to the Usefulness
of this Art.

BUT how much the Study and Subject of Building delights, and how firmly it is rooted in
the Mind of Man, appeal’s from several Instances, and particularly from this; that you shall
find no body who has the Means but what has an Inclination to be building something: And
if a Man has happened to think of any Thing new in Architecture, he is sond of communicat-
ing and divulging it for the Use of others, as if constrained thereto by Nature. And how osten
does it fall out, that even when we are employed upon other Things, we cannot keep our
Thoughts and Imaginations, from Projecting some Edisice? And when we see other Men’ s
Houses, we immediately set about a careful Examination of all the Proportions and Dimensions,
and, to the best of our Ability, consider what might be added, retrenched or altered; and pre-
sently give our Opinions how it might be made more compleat or beautiful. And if a Build-
ing be well laid out, and justly finished, who is he that does not view it with the utmost Plea-
sure and Delight? But why need I mention not only how much Benefit and Delight, but how
much Glory to Architecture has brought to Nations, which have cultivated it both at home
and abroad? Who that has built any publick Edifice does not think himself honoured by it,
when it is reputable to a Man only to have built a handsome Habitation for himself? Men of
publick Spirits approve and rejoice when you have raised a fine Wall or Portico, and adorned

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it with Portals, Columns, and a handsome Roof, knowing you have thereby not only served
yourself, but them too, having by this generous Use of your Wealth, gained an Addition of
great Honour to yourself, your Family, your Descendants, and your City. The Sepulchre of
Jupiter was the first Step to the ennobling the Island of Crete; and Delos was not so much
respected for the Oracle of Apollo, as for the beautiful Structure of the City, and the Majesty of
the Temple. How much Authority accrued to the Roman Name and Empire from their
Buildings, I shall dwell upon no further, than that the Sepulchres and other Remains of the
ancient Magnificence, every where to be found, are a great Inducement and Argument with us
for believing many Things related by Historians, which might otherwise have seemed incredible.
Thucydides extreamly commends the Prudence of some Ancients, who had so adorned their City
with all Sorts of fine Structures, that their Power thereby appeared to be much greater than it
really was. And what potent or wise Prince can be named, that among his chief Projects for
eternizing his Name and Posterity, did not make Use of Architecture. But of this enough.

The Conclusion is, that for the Service, Security, Honour and Ornament of the Publick, we
are exceedingly obliged to the Architect; to whom, in Time of Leisure, we arc indebted for

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Tranquility, Pleasure and Health, in Time of Business for Assistance and Profit; and in both,
sor Security and Dignity. Let us not therefore deny that he ought to be praised and esteemed,
and to be allowed a Place, both for the wonderful and ravishing Beauty of his Works, and for
the Necessity, Serviceableness, and Strength of the Things which he has invented, among the
Chief of those who have deserved Honour and Rewards from Mankind. The Consideration of
these Things induced me, for my Diversion, to look a little further into this Art and its Ope-
rations, from what Principles it was derived, and of what Parts it consisted: And finding them
of various Kinds, in Number almost infinite, in their Nature marvellous, of Use incredible, in-
somuch that it was doubtful what Condition of Men, or what Paid of the Commonwealth, or
what Degree in the City, whether the Publick or Private, Things sacred or profane, Repose or
Labour, the Individual or the whole human Species, was most obliged to the Architect, or
rather Inventor of all Conveniencies; I resolved, for several Reasons, too tedious here to re-
peat, to collect all those Things which are contained in these Ten Books. In treating of which,
we shall observe this Method: We consider that an Edisice is a Kind of Body consisting, like
all other Bodies, of Design and of Matter; the first is produced by the Thought, the other by
Nature; so that the one is to be provided by the Application and Contrivance of the Mind,
and the other by due Preparation and Choice. And we further reflected, that neither the one
nor the other of itself was sufficient, without the Hand of an experienced Artificer, that knew
how to form his Materials after a just Design. And the Use of Edisices being various, it was
necessary to enquire whether one and the same Kind of Design was fit for all Sorts of Buildings;
upon which Account we have distinguished the several Kinds of Buildings: Wherein perceiv-
ing that the main Point was the just Composition and Relation of the Lines among themselves,
from whence arises the Height of Beauty, I therefore began to examine what Beauty really was,
and what Sort of Beauty was proper to each Edifice. And as we often meet with Faults in all
these Respects, I considered how they might be altered or amended. Every Book therefore
has its Title prefixed to it, according to the Variety of the Subject: The First treats of Designs;
the Second, of Materials; the Third, of the Work; the Fourth, of Works in general; the
Fifth, of Works in particular; the Sixth, of Ornaments in general; the Seventh, of the Orna-
ments proper for sacred Edifices; the Eighth, of those for publick and profane ones; The
Ninth, of those for the Houses of private Persons; the Tenth, of Amendments and Alterations
in Buildings: To which is added, a various History of Waters, and how they are found, and
what Use is to be made of the Architect in all these Works: As also Four other Books, Three of
which treat of the Art of Painting; and the Fourth, of Sculpture.

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The TABLE of CONTENTS.

BOOK I.

CHAP. I. Of Designs; their Value and Rules.

CHAP. II. Of the first Occasion of erecting Edifices;
of how many Parts the Art of Building consists, and
what is necessary to each of those Parts.

CHAP. III. Of the Region of the Climate or Air, of the
Sun and Winds which affect the Air.

CHAP. IV. Which Region is, and which is not commodi-
ous for Building.

CHAP. V. By what Marks and Characters we are to
know the Goodness of the Region.

CHAP. VI. Of some hidden Conveniencies and Inccnveni—
encies of the Region which a wise Man ought to enquire
into.

CHAP. VII. Of the Seat, or Platform, and of the several
Sorts of Lines.

CHAP. VIII. Of the Kinds of Platforms, their Forms and
Figures, and which are the most serviceable and lasting.

CHAP. IX. Of the Compartition, and of the Origin of
Building.

CHAP. X. Of the Columns and Walls, and some Observa-
tions relating to the Columns.

CHAP. XI. Of the great Usefulness of the Coverings both
to the Inhabitants and the other Parts of the Building,
and that being various in their Natures, they must be
made of various Sorts.

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CHAP. XII. Of the Apertures in the Building, that is to
say, of the Windows and Doors, and of those which do
not take up the whole Thickness of the Wall, and their
Number and Sizes.

CHAP. XIII. Of the Stair— cases, and their different Sorts;
of Steps of the Stairs which ought to be in odd Numbers,
and how many. Of the Resting-places, of the Tunnels
for carrying away the Smoke. Of Pipes and Conduits
for carrying off the Water, and of the proper placing of
Wells and Sinks.

BOOK II.

CHAP. I. Treating of the Materials. That no Man
ought to begin a Building hastily, but should
first take a good deal of Time to consider, and revolve in
his Mind all the Qualities and Requisites of such a Work:
And that he should carefully review and examine, with
the Advice of proper Judges, the whole Structure in it-
self, and the Proportions and Measures of every distinct
Part, not only in Draughts or Paintings, but in actual
Models of Wood or some other Substance, that when he
has finished his Building, he may not repent of his Labour.

CHAP. II. That we ought to undertake nothing above our
Abilities, nor strive against Nature, and that we ought
also not only to consider what we can do, but what is fit
for us to do, and in what Place it is that we are to build.

CHAP. III. That having considered the whole Disposition
of the Building in all the Parts of the Model, we ought
to take the Advice of prudent and understanding Men,
and before we begin our Work, it will not only be proper
to know how to raise Money for the Expence, but also
long before— hand to provide all the Materials for corn-
pleating such an Undertaking.

CHAP. IV. What Materials are to be provided for the
Building, what Workmen to be chose, and in what Sea—

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sons, according to the Opinions of the Ancien ts, to cut
Timber.

CHAP. V. Of preserving the Trees after they are cut,
what to plaister or anoint them with, of the Remedies
against their Infirmities, and of allotting them their pro-
per Places in the Building.

CHAP. VI. What Woods are most proper for Buildings,
their Nature and Uses, how they are to be employed, and
in what Part of the Edifice each Kind is most fit for.

CHAP. VII. Of Trees more summarily and in general.

CHAP. VIII. Of Stones in general, when they are to be
dug, and when used; which are the softest and which
the hardest, and which best and most durable.

CHAP. IX. Some Things worthy memorial, relating to
Stones, left us by the Ancients.

CHAP. X. Of the Origin of the Use of Bricks, in what
Season they ought to be made, and in what Shapes, their
different Sorts, and the Usefulness of triangular ones;
and briefly, of all other Works made of baked Earth.

CHAP. XI. Of the Nature of Lime and Plaister of Paris,
their Uses and Kinds, wherein they agree and wherein
they differ, and of some Things not unworthy of Memory.

CHAP. XII. Of the three differen t Kinds of Sands, and of the
various Materials used in Building in different Places.

CHAP. XIII. Whether the Observation of Times and Sea-
sons is of any Use in beginning a Building; what Sea-
son is most convenient; as also, with what Auguries or
Prayers we ought to set out upon our Work.

BOOK III.

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CHAP. I. Of the Work. Wherein lies the Business of
the Work; the different Parts of the Walls,
and what they require. That the Foundation is no Part
of the Wall; what Soil makes the best Foundation.

CHAP. II. That the Foundation chiefly is to be marked out
with Lines; and by what Tokens we may know the
Goodness of the Ground.

CHAP. III. That the Nature of Places is various, and
therefore we ought not to trust any Place too hastily, till
we have first dug Wells or Reservoirs; but that in marshy
Places we must make our Foundation with Piles burnt
at the Ends, and driven in with their Heads downward
with light Beetles, and many repeated Blows, till they
are driven quite in to the Head.

CHAP. IV. Of the Nature, Forms and Qualities of Stones,
and of the Tempering of Mortar.

CHAP. V. Of the lower Courses or Foundations, accord-
ing to the Precepts and Example of the Ancients.

CHAP. VI. That there ought to be Vents left open in
thick Walls from the Bottom to the Top, the Difference
between the Wall and the Foundation: The principal
Parts of the Wall; the three Methods of Wailing; the
Materials and Form of the first Course or Layer.

CHAP. VII. Of the Generation of Stones: How they are
to be disposed and joined together, as also, which are the
strongest and which the weakest.

CHAP. VIII. Of the Parts of the Finishing; of the Shells,
the Stuffing, and their different Sorts.

CHAP. IX. Of the Girders of Stone, of the Ligament and
Fortification of the Cornices, and how to unite several
Stones for the Strengthen ing of the Wall.

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CHAP. X. Of the true Manner of Working the Wall,
and of the Agreement there is between Stone and Sand.

CHAP. XI. Of the Way of Working different Materials;
of Plaistering, of Cramps, and how to preserve them;

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the most ancient Instructions of Architects; and some
Methods to prevent the Mischiefs of Lightning.

CHAP. XII. Of Coverings of str eight Lines; of the Beams
and Rafters, and of the uniting the Ribs.

CHAP. XIII. Of Coverings, or Roofs of Curve Lines; of
Arches, their Difference and Construction, and how to
set the Stones in an Arch.

CHAP. XIV. Of the several Sorts of Vaults, and wherein
they differ; of what Lines they are composed, and the
Method of letting them settle.

CHAP. XV. Of the Shell of the Covering, and its Useful-
ness; the different Sorts and Shapes of Tiles, and what
to make them of.

CHAP. XVI. Of Pavements according to the Opinion of
Pliny and Vitruvius, and the Works of the Ancients;
and of the proper Seasons for beginning, and finishing
the several Parts of Building.

BOOK IV.

CHAP. I. Of Works of a publick Nature. That all
Buildings, whether contrived for Necessity,

Conveniency, or Pleasure, were intended for the Sendee
of Mankind. Of the several Divisions of human Condi-
tions, whence arises the Diversity of Buildings.

CHAP. II. Of the Region, Place, and Conveniencies, and
Inconveniencies of a Situation for a City, according to
the Opinion of the Ancients, and that of the Author.

CHAP. III. Of the Compass, Space and Bigness of a City,
of the Form and Disposition of the Walls and Fortifica-
tions, and of the Customs and Ceremonies observed by the
Ancients in making them out.

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CHAP. IV. Of Walls, Battlements, Towers, Cornishes and
Gates, and the Timber— work belonging to them.

CHAP. V. Of the Proportion, Fashion and Construction of
great military Ways, and private Ways.

CHAP. VI. Of Bridges both of Wood and Stone, their pro-
per Situation, their Piers, Arches, Angles, Feet, Key-
stones, Cramps, Pavements, and Slopes.

CHAP. VII. Of Drains or Sewers, their disferent Sorts
and Uses; and of Rivers and Canals for Ships.

CHAP. VIII. Of the proper Structure for a Haven, and
of making convenient Squares in the City.

BOOK V.

CHAP. I. Of Buildings for particular Persons. Of the
Castles or Habitations of a King, or others;
their different Properties and Parts.

CHAP. II. Of the Portico, Vestibule, Court— yard. Hall,
Stairs, Lobbies, Apertures, Back-doors, concealed Pass-
ages and private Apartments; and wherein the Houses
of Princes differ from those of private Men; as also of
the separate and common Apartments for the Prince
and his Spouse.

CHAP. III. Of the Properties of the Portico, Lobby, Halls
both for Summer and Winter, Watch-Towers and of the
Difference between the Castle for a Tyrant, and the
Palace for a King.

CHAP. IV. Of the proper Situation, Structure and For-
tification of a Fortress, whether in a Plain, or upon a
Hill, its Inclosure, Area, Walls, Ditches, Bridges, and
Towers.

CHAP. V. Of those Parts of the Fortress where the Soldiers

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are to stand either to keep centinel, or to fight. Of the
covering Roof of the Fortress, and in what Manner it
is to be made strong, and of the other Conveniencies ne-
cessary in the Castle either of a King or a Tyrant.

CHAP. VI. Of the several Parts of which the Republick
consists. The proper Situation and Building for the
Houses of those that govern the Republick, and of the
Priests. Of Temples as well large as sinall, Chapels
and Oratories.

CHAP. VII. That the Priest’ s Camp is the Cloyster; the
Duty of the Priest; the various Sorts of Cloy siers and
their proper Situation.

CHAP. VIII. Of Places sor Exercise, publick Schools, and
Hospitals both for Men and Women.

CHAP. IX. Of the Senate-house, the Temple, and the Tri-
bunals for the Administration of Justice.

CHAP. X. That Incampments, or Lodgments for Soldiers
by Land are of three Sorts; in what Manner they are
to be fortified; and the various Methods used by diffe-
rent Nations.

CHAP. XI. The most convenien t Situation for a Camp,
and its Size, Form and various Parts; together with
the different Methods of attacking and defending a Camp
or other Fortification.

CHAP. XII. Of Incampments or Stations at Sea, which
are Fleets; of Ships and their Parts; as also of Havens
and their proper Fortification.

CHAP. XIII. Of the Commissaries, Chamberlains, publick
Receivers and the like Magistrates, whose Business is to
supply and preside over the publick Granaries, Chambers
of Accounts, Arsenals, Marts, Docks and Stables; as
also of the three Sorts of Prisons, their Structures, Situ—

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ations, and Compartitions.

CHAP. XIV. Of private Houses and their Differences;
as also of the Country House, and the Rules to be observed
in its Situation and Structure.

CHAP. XV. That Country Houses are of two Sorts; the
proper Disposition of all their Members whether for the
Lodging of Men, Animals, or Tools for Agriculture
and other necessary Instruments,

CHAP. XVI. That the Industry of the Farmer or Overseer
ought to be employed as well about all Sorts of Animals,
as about the Fruits of the Earth; as also of the Con –
struction of the Threshing-floor.

CHAP. XVII. Of the Country House for a Gentleman;
its various Parts, and the proper Disposition of each of
those Parts.

CHAP. XVIII. The Difference between the Country House
and Town House for the Rich. The Habitation of the
middling Sort ought to resemble those of the Rich; at
least in Proportion to their Circumstances. Buildings
should be contrived more for Summer than for Winter.

BOOK VI.

CHAP. I. Of the Reason and Difficulty of the Author’ s
Undertaking, whereby it appears how much
Pains, Study and Application he has employed in writ-
ing upon these Matters.

CHAP. II. Of Beauty and Ornament, their Effects and
Difference, that they are owing to Art and Exactness
of Proportion; as also of the Birth and Progress of Arts.

CHAP. III. That Architecture began in Asia., flourished in
Greece, and was brought to Perfection in Italy.

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CHAP. IV. That Beauty and Ornament in every Thing
arise either srom Contrivance, or the Hand of the Arti-
ficer, or from Nature; and that though the Region in-
deed can hardly be improved by the Wit or Labour of
Man, yet many other Things may be done highly worthy
of Admiration, and scarcely credible.

CHAP. V. A short Recapitulation of the Compartition,
and of the just Composition and adorning the Wall and
Covering.

CHAP. VI. In what Manner great Weights and large
Stones are moved from one Place to another, or raised to
any great Height.

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CHAP. VII. Of Wheels, Pins, Leavers, Pullies, their
Parts, Sizes, and Figures.

CHAP. VIII. Of the Skrew and its Circles or Worm, and
in what manner great Weights are either drawn, car-
ried or pushed along.

CHAP. IX. That the Incrustations which are made upon
the Wall with Mortar, must be three in Number: How
they are to be made, and to what Purposes they are to
serve. Of the several Sorts of Mortar, and in what
Manner the Lime is to be prepared for making them:

Of Bass— relieves in stuc— work and Paintings, with
which the Wall may be adorned.

CHAP. X. Of the Method of cutting of Marble into thin
Seantlings, and what Sand is best for that Purpose; as
also of the Difference and Agreemen t between Mosaic
Work in Relieve, and Flat, and of the Cemen t to be used
in that Sort of Work.

CHAP. XI. Of the Ornaments of the Covering, which con –
sists in the Richness and Beauty of the Rafters, Vaults,
and open Terrasses.

CHAP. XII. That the Ornaments of the Apertures are
very pleasing, but are attended with many and various
Difficu ties and Inconveniencies; that the false Aper-
tures are of two Sorts, and what is required in each.

CHAP. XIII Of Columns and their Ornaments, their
Plans, Axes, Out-lines, Sweeps, Diminutions, Swells,
Asiragals and Fillets.

BOOK VII.

CHAP. I. That the Walls of Cities, the Temples, and
Courts of Justice, used to be consecreated to
the Gods; of the proper Region for the City, its Situati-
on and principal Ornaments.

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CHAP. II. Of how large and what Kind of Stone the Walls
ought to be built, and who were the first that erected
Temples.

CHAP. III. With how much Thought, Care and Diligence
we ought to lay out and adorn our Temples; to what
Gods and in what Places we should build them, and of
the various Kinds of Sacrifices.

CHAP. IV. Of the Parts, Forms and Figures of Temples
and their Chapels, and how these latter should be distri-
buted.

CHAP. V. Of the Porticoes and Entrance to the Temple,
its Ascen t and the Apertures and Interspaces of the
Portico.

CHAP. VI. Of Columns, and the different Sorts of Ca-
pitals.

CHAP. VII. A necessary Rehearsal of the several Mem-
bers of Columns, the Base, Torus, Scotia, Lists, Die,
and of the smaller Parts of those Members, the Plat-
band, Corona, Ovolo, small Ogee, Cima—inversa, and
Cymatium, both upright and reversed.

CHAP. VIII. Of the Doric. Ionic. Corinthian and Com-
posite Capitals.

CHAP. IX. Of the Entablature, the Architrave, Tri-
glyphs, Dentils, Mutules, Cavetto, and Drip or Corona,
as also of the Flutings and some other Ornaments be-
longing to Columns.

CHAP. X. Of the Pavemen t of the Temple and its inner
Area, of the Place sor the Altar, and of the Walls and
their Ornaments.

CHAP. XI. VV7?y the Rooss of Temples ought to be arched.

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CHAP. XII. Of the Apertures proper to Temples , namely,
the Windows, Doors, and Valves; together with their
Members, Proportions and Ornaments.

CHAP. XIII. Of the Altar, Communion, Lights, Candle-
sticks, holy Vessels, and some other noble Ornaments of
Temples.

CHAP. XIV. Of the first Original of Basiliques, their
Porticoes and different Members, and wherein they dif-
fer from Temples.

CHAP. XV. Of Colonnades both with Architraves and
with Arches; what Sort of Columns are to be used in
Basiliques, and what Cornices, and where they are to be
placed; of the Height and Wedth of Windows and
their Gratings; of the Roofs and Doors of Basiliques,
and their Ornaments.

CHAP. XVI. Of Monuments raised for preserving the
Memory ofpublick Actions and Even ts.

CHAP. XVII. Whether Statues ought to be placed in
Temples, and what Materials are the most proper for
making them.

BOOK VIII.

CHAP. I. Of the Ornamen ts of the great Ways either
within or without the City, and of the pro-
per Places for interring or burning the Bodies of the
Dead.

CHAP. II. Of Sepulchres, and the various Manners of
burial.

CHAP. III. Of little Chapels, by Way of Sepulchres, Py-
ramids, Columns, Altars and Moles.

CHAP. IV. Of the Inscriptions and Symbols carved on

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Sepulchres.

CHAP. V. Of Towers and their Ornaments.

CHAP. VI. Of the principal Ways belonging to the City,
and the Methods of adorning the Haven, Gates, Bridges,
Arches, Cross-ways and Squares.

CHAP. VII. Of the adorning Theatres and other Places
for publick Shows, and of their Usefulness.

CHAP. VIII. Of the Ornaments of the Amphitheatre,

Circus, publick Walks, and Halls, and Courts for petty
Judges.

CHAP. IX. Of the proper Ornaments for the Senate-
House and Council— Chambers, as also of the adorning the
City with Groves, Lakes for Swimming, Libraries,

Schools, publick Stables, Arsenals, and mathematical
Instruments.

CHAP. X. Of Thermes or publick Baths; their Conveni—
encies and Ornaments.

BOOK IX.

CHAP. I. That particular Regard must be had to
Frugality and Parsimony, and of the adorn-
ing the Palaces or Houses of the King and principal
Magistrates.

CHAP. II. Of adorning of private Houses, both in City
and Country.

CHAP. III. That the Parts and Members of a House are
different both in Nature and Species, and that they are
to be adorned in various Manners.

CHAP. IV. With what Paintings, Plants, and Statues,
it is proper to adorn the Pavements, Porticoes, Apart—

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1

merits and Gardens of a private House.

CHAP. V. That the Beauty of all Edifices arises princi-
pally from three Things, namely, the Number, Figure
and Collocation of the several Members.

CHAP. VI. Of the Proportions of Numbers in the Mea-
suring of Areas, and the Rules for some other Proper-
dons drawn neither from natural Bodies, nor from Har-
mony.

CHAP. VII. Of the Invention of Columns, their Dimen –
tions and Collocation.

CHAP. VIII. Some short, but general Observations which
may be locked upon as Laws in the Business of Building
and Ornaments.

22

CHAP. IX. The Business and Duty of a good Architect,
and wherein the Excellence of the Ornaments consists.

CHAP. X. What it is that an Architect ought principall
to consider, and what Sciences he ought to be acquaint-
ed with.

CHAP. XI. To what Sort of Persons the Architect ought
to offer his Sendee.

BOOK X.

CHAP. I. Of the Defects in Building, whence they pro-
ceed, and their different Sorts; which of
them can be corrected by the Architect, and which can-
not; and the various Causes of a bad Air.

CHAP. II. That Water is the most necessary Thing of all,
and of its various Sorts.

CHAP. III. Four Things to be considered with Relation to
Water; also whence it is engendered or arises, and its
Course.

CHAP. IV. By what Marks to find any hidden Water.

CHAP. V. Of the Digging and Walling of Wells and
Conduits.

CHAP. VI. Of the Uses of Water; which is best and most
wholesome; and that which is unwholesome.

CHAP. VII. Of the Method of conveying Water and ac-
commodating it to the Uses of Men.

CHAP. VIII. Of Cisterns, their Uses and Conveniences.

CHAP. IX. Of planting a Vineyard in a Meadow, or a
Wood in a Marsh; and how we may amend a Region
which is molested with too much Water.

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1

CHAP. X. Of Roads; of Passages by Water and of artifi-
cial Banks to Rivers.

CHAP. XI. Of Canals; how they are to be kept well sup-
plied with Water, and the Uses of them not obstructed.

CHAP. XII. Of the Sea Wall; of strengthening the Ports;
and of Locks for confining the Water in it.

CHAP. XIII. Of the Remedies for some other Inc onveni—
encies.

CHAP. XIV. Some more minute Particulars relating to
the Use of Fire.

CHAP. XV. By what Methods to destroy or drive away
Serpents, Gnats, Bugs, Flies, Mice, Fleas, Moths, and
the like troublesome Vermin.

CHAP. XVI. Of making a Room either warmer or cooler;
as also of amending Defects in the Walls.

CHAP. XVII. Of some Defects which cannot be provided
against, but which may be repaired after they have hap-
pened.

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THE

ARCHITECTURE

OF

Leone Batista Alberti.

BOOK I. CHAP. I.

Of Designs; their Value and Rules.

Being to treat of the
Designs of Edifices, we
shall collect and tran-
scribe into this our Work,
all the most curious and
usesul Observations left
us by the Ancients, and
which they gathered in
the actual Execution of
these Works; and to these we shall join what-
ever we ourselves may have discovered by our
Study, Application and Labour, that seems like-
ly to be of Use. But as we desire, in the hand-
ling this difficult, knotty, and commonly ob-
scure Subject, to be as clear and intelligible as
possible; we shall, according to our Custom,
explain what the Nature of our Subject is;
which will shew the Origin of the important
Matters that we are to write of, at their very
Fountain-Head, and enable us to express the
Things that follow, in a more easy and per-
spicuous Style. We shall therefore first lay
down, that the whole Art of Building consists
in the Design, and in the Structure. The
whole Force and Rule of the Design, consists
in a right and exact adapting and joining to-
gether the Lines and Angles which compose
and form the Face of the Building. It is the
Property and Business of the Design to appoint
to the Edifice and all its Parts their proper
Places, determinate Number, just Proportion

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1

and beautiful Order; so that the whole Form
of the Structure be proportionable. Nor has
this Design any thing that makes it in its Na-
ture inseparable from Matter; for we see that
the same Design is in a Multitude of Buildings,
which have all the same Form, and are exact-
ly alike as to the Situation of their Parts and
the Disposition of their Lines and Angles; and
we can in our Thought and Imagination con-
trive perfect Forms of Buildings entirely sepa-
rate from Matter, by settling and regulating in
a certain Order, the Disposition and Conjunc-
tion of the Lines and Angles. Which being

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1

granted, we shall call the Design a firm and
graceful pre-ordering of the Lines and Angles,
conceived in the Mind, and contrived by an
ingenious Artist. But if we would enquire
what a Building is in its own Nature, together
with the Structure thereof, it may not be amiss,
to consider from what Beginnings the Habita-
tions of Men, which we call Edifices, took
their Rise, and the Progress of their Improve-
ment: Which unless I am mistaken, may be
resolved as follows.

CHAP II.

Of the first Occasion of erecting Edifices; of how many Parts the Art of
Building consists, and what is necessary to each of those Parts.

In the Beginning Men looked out for Set-
tlements in some secure Country; and ha-
ving found a convenient Spot suitable to their
Occasions, they there made themselves a Ha-
bitation so contrived, that private and publick
Matters might not be confounded together in
the same Place; but that they might have one
Part for Sleep, another for their Kitchen, and
others for their other necessary Uses. They
then began to think of a Covering to defend
them from Sun and Rain; and in order there-
to, they erected Walls to place this Covering
upon. By this means they knew they should
be the more compleatly sheltered from pierc-
ing Colds, and stormy Winds. Lastly, in the
Sides of the Walls, from Top to Bottom, they
opened Passages and Windows, for going in and
out, and letting in Light and Air, and for the
Conveniency of discharging any Wet, or any
gross Vapours, which might chance to get into
the House. And whosoever it was, whether
the Goddess Vesta, Daughter of Saturn, or
Euryalus and Hyperbius, the two Brothers, or

27

1

Gellio, or Thraso, or the Cyclop Typhinchius,
that first contrived these Things: I am per-
suaded the first Beginnings of them were such
as I have described, and that Use and Arts have
since improved them to such a Pitch, that the
various Kinds of Buildings are become almost
infinite: Some are publick, some private, some
sacred, some profane, some serve for Use and
Necessity, some for the Ornament of our Cities,
or the Beauty of our Temples: But no body
will therefore deny, that they were all derived
from the Principles abovementioned: Which
being so, it is evident, that the whole Art of
Building consists in six Things, which are these:
The Region, the Seat or Platform, the Corn-
partition, the Walling, the Covering and the
Apertures; and if these Principles are first
thoroughly conceived, that which is to follow
will the more easily be understood. We shall
therefore define them thus, the Region with
us shall be the whole large open Place in which
we are to build, and of which the Seat or Plat-
form shall be only a Part: But the Platform
shall be a determined Spot of the Region, cir-
cumscribed by Walls for Use and Service. But
under the Title of Platform, we shall likewise
include all those Spaces of the Buildings, which
in walking we tread upon with our Feet. The
Com part it ion is that which sub-divides the
whole Platform of the Flouse into smaller Plat-
forms, so that the whole Edifice thus formed
and constituted of these its Members, seems to
be full of lesser Edifices: By Walling we shall
understand all that Structure, which is earned
up from the Ground to the Top to support
the Weight of the Roof, and such also as is
raised on the Inside of the Building, to sepa-
rate the Apartments; Covering we shall call
not only that Part, which is laid over the Top
of the Edifice to receive the Rain, but any

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Part too which is extended in length and
breadth over the Heads of those within;
which includes all Ceilings, hals-arched Roofs,
Vaults, and the like. Apertures are all those
Outlets, which are in any Part of the Build-
ing, for the Convenience of Egress and Re-
gress, or the Passage of Things necessary for
the Inmates. Of these therefore we shall treat,
and of all the Parts of each, having first pre-
mised some Things, which whether they are
Principles, or necessary Concomitants of the
Principles of this Work which we have under-
taken, are certainly very much to our Puipose:
For having considered, whether there was any
Thing that might concern any of those Parts
which we have enumerated; we found three
Things by no means to be neglected, which
relate particularly to the Covering, the Wall-
ing, and the like: Namely, that each of them
be adapted to some certain and determinate
Conveniency, and above all, be wholesome.

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1

That they be firm, solid, durable, in a Man-
ner eternal, as to Stability: And as to Grace-
fulness and Beauty, delicately and justly adorn-
ed, and set off in all their Parts. Having laid
down these Principles as the Foundations of
what we are to write, we proceed to our Subject.

CHAP. III.

Of the Region, of the Climate or Air, of the Sun and Winds, which affect the Air.

The Ancients used the utmost Caution
to six upon a Region that had in it
nothing noxious, and was furnished with all
Conveniences; and especially they took parti-
cular Care that the Air was not unwholesome
or intemperate; in which they shewed a great
Deal of Prudence; for they knew that if the
Fai th or Water had any Defect in them. Art
and Industry might correct it; but they affirm-
ed, that neither Contrivance nor Multitude of
Hands was able sufficiently to correct and a-
mend the Air. And it must be allowed, that,
as what we breathe is so conducive to the
Nourishment and Support of Life, the purer
it is, the more it must preserve and main-
tain our Health. Besides, how great an In-
fluence the Air has in the Generation, Pro-
duction, Aliment, and Preservation of Things,
is unknown to nobody. It is even observed,
that they who draw a pure Air, have better
Understandings than those who breathe a heavy
moist one: Which is supposed to be the Rea-
son that the Athenians had much sharper Wits
than the Thebans. We know that the Air,
according to the different Situation and Positi-
on of Places, affects us sometimes in one Man-
ner, and sometimes in another. Some of the
Causes of this Variety we imagine we under-
stand; others by the Obscurity of their Natures

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1

are altogether hidden and unknown to us. We
shall first speak of the manifest Causes, and
consider afterwards of the more occult; that
we may know how to chuse a Region com-
modious and healthful. The Ancient Theo-
logists called the Air Pallas. Homer makes
her a Goddess, and names her Glaucopis, which
signifies an Air naturally clear and transparent.
And it is certain, that Air is the most healthy,
which is the most purged and purified, and
which may most easily be pierced by the Sight,
the clearest and lightest, and the least Subject
to Variations. And on the contrary we af-
firm the Air to be pestiferous, where there is a
continued Collection of thick Clouds and stink-
ing Vapours, and which always hangs like a
great Weight upon the Eyes, and obstructs
the Sight. The Occasion of this Difference
proceeds from several Causes, but chiefly I
take it, from the Sun and Winds. But we are
not here to spend Time in these physical En-
quiries, how the Vapours by the Power of the
Sun are raised from the most profound and
hidden Parts of the Earth, and drawn up to
the Sky, where gathering themselves together
in vast Bodies in the immense Spaces of the
Air, either by their own huge Weight, or by
receiving the Rays of the Sun upon their rai i—
fied Parts, they fall and thereby press upon the
Air and occasion the Winds; and being after-
wards carried to the Ocean by their Drought,
they plunge, and having bathed and impregna-
ted themselves with Moisture from the Sea,
they once more ascend through the Air, where
being pressed by the Winds, and as it were
squeezed like a Sponge, they discharge their
Burthen of Water in Rains, which again
create new Vapours. Whether these Conjec-
tures be true, or whether the Wind be occasi-
oned by a dry Fumosity of the Earth, or a hot

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Evaporation stirred by the Pressure of the Cold;
or that it be, as we may call it, the Breath of
the Air; or nothing but the Air itself put into
Agitation by the Motion of the World, or by
the Course and Radiation of the Stars; or by
the generating Spirit of all Things in its own
Nature active, or something else not of a sepa-
rate Existence, but consisting in the Air itself
acted upon and inflamed by the Heat of the
higher Air; or whatever other Opinion or
Way of accounting for these Things be truer
or more ancient, I shall pass it over as not
making to my Puipose. However, unless I am
mistaken, we may conceive from what has been
said already, why some Countries in the World
enjoy a pleasant chearful Air, while others,
close adjoyning to them, and as it were laid
by Nature in the same Lap, are stupified and
afflicted with a heavy and dismal Climate.

For I suppose, that this happens from no other
Cause, but their being ill disposed for the O-
peration of the Sun and Winds. Cicero tells
us, that Syracuse was so placed, that the Inha-
bitants never missed seeing the Sun every Day
in the Year; a Situation very seldom to be met

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1

with, but when Necessity or Opportunity will
allow of it to be desired above all Things.

That Region therefore is to be chosen, which
is most free from the Power of Clouds and all
other heavy thick Vapours. Those who ap-
ply themselves to these Enquiries have observ-
ed, that the Rays and Heat of the Sun act
with more Violence upon close dense Bodies,
than upon those of a looser Contexture, upon
Oil more than Water, Iron more than Wool;
for which Reason they say the Air is most
gross and heavy in those Places, which are most
subject to great Heats. The A Egyptians con-
tending for Nobility with all the other Nati-
ons in the World, boasted, that the first Men
were created in their Country, because no
Place was so fit to plant the first Race of Men
in, as there, where they might live the most
healthily; and that they were blessed by the
Gods with a Kind of peipetual Spring, and a
constant unchangeable Disposition of Air above
all the Rest of the Word. And Herodotus
writes, that among the Egyptians, those chief-
ly who lived towards Libia, are the most
healthy, because they enjoy continual gentle
Breezes. And to me the Reason why some
Cities, both in Italy and in other Parts of the
World, are perpetually unhealthy and pesti-
lential, seems plainly to be the sudden Turns
and Changes in the Air, from Hot to Cold,
and from Cold to Hot. So that it very much
concerns us to be extremely careful in our Ob-
servation, what and how much Sun the Regi-
on we pitch upon is exposed to; that there be
neither more Sun nor more Shade than is ne-
cessary. The Garamantes curse the Sun, both
at it’ s Rising and it’ s Setting, because they are
scorched with the long Continuation of it’ s
Beams. Other Nations look pale and wan, by
living in a Kind of peipetual Night. And

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these Things happen not so much, because such
Places have the Pole more depressed or oblique,
tho there is a great deal in that too, as because
they are aptly situated for receiving the Sun and
Winds, or are skreened from them. I should
chuse soft Breezes before Winds, but even
Winds, though violent and blustering, before a
Calm, motionless, and consequently, a heavy
Air. Water, says Ovid, corrupts, if not mov-
ed: And it is certain the Air, to use such an
Expression, wonderfully exhilerated by Moti-
on: For I am persuaded, that thereby the Va-
pours which rise from the Earth are either dis-
sipated, or else growing warm by Action are
concocted as they should be. But then I
would have these Winds come to me, broken
by the Opposition of Hills and Woods, or tir-
ed with a long Journey. I would take heed
that they did not bring any ill Qualities along
with them, gathered from any Places they
passed through. And for this Reason we
should be caresul to avoid all Neighbourhoods
from which any noxious Particles may be
brought: In the Number of which are all ill
Smells, and all gross Exhalations from Marshes,
and especially from stagnating Waters and
Ditches. The Naturalists lay it down for cer-
tain, that all Rivers that use to be supplied by
Snows, bring cold soggy Winds: But no Water
is so noisome and pernicious, as that which
rots and putri ies for want of Motion. And
the Contagion of such a Neighbourhood will
be still more mischievous, according as it is
more or less exposed to unwholesome Winds:
For we are told, that the very Winds them-
selves are in their own Natures some more
wholesome than others. Thus Pliny from
Theophrastus and Hippocrates informs us, that
the North is the best for restoring and preserv-
ing of Health; and all the Naturalists affirm,

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1

that the South is the most noxious of all to
Mankind; nay further, that the very Beasts
may not safely be left in the Fields while that
Wind blows; and they have observed, that at
such Times the Stork never flies, and that the
Dolphins in a North Wind, if it stands fair to-
wards them, can hear any Voice, but in a
South, they are more slow in healing it, and
must have it brought to them opposite to the
Wind. They say too, that in a North Wind
an Eel will live six Days out of Water, but
not so in a South, such is the Grossness and un-
wholesome Property of that Wind; and that
as the South Wind brings Catarrhs and Rheums,
so the North-West is apt to give Coughs. They
likewise find Fault with the Neighbourhood of
the Mediterranean, upon this Account chiefly,
because they suppose, that a Place exposed to
the Reflection of the Sun’ s Rays, does in ef-
fect suffer two Suns, one scorching them from
the Fleavens, and the other from the Water;
and such Places upon the Setting of the Sun
feel the greatest and most sensible Alrerations
in the Air when the cold Shadows of Night
come on. And there are some who think, that
the Western Reverberations or Reflections of
the Sun, either from the Sea or any other
Water, or from the Mountains, molest us most

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1

of all: Because they double the Heat of a Place
already sufficiently warmed by whole Day’ s
Sun. And if it happens, that with all this Sun
the heavy gross Winds have free Access to you,
what can be more annoying or intollerable?

The early Morning Breezes too, which bring
the Vapours crude just as they are raised, are
certainly to be avoided. Thus we have briefly
spoken of the Sun and Winds, by which the
Air is altered and made healthy and noxious,
as much as we thought necessary here: And
in their Places we shall discourse of them more
distinctly.

CHAP. IV.

Which Region is, and which is not commodious for Building.

In chusing the Region it will be proper to
have it such, that the Inhabitants may find
it convenient in all Respects, both as to its na-
tural Properties, and as to the Neighbourhood
and its Correspondence with the rest of Man-
kind. For certainly I would never build a City
upon a steep inaccessible Cliff of the Alps, as
Caligula intended; unless obliged by the ut-
most Extremity: Nor in a solitary Desart, as
Varro describes that Part of France to have
been which was beyond the Rhine, and as Caesar
paints England in his Days. Neither should I
be pleased to live, as in a E gina , only upon the
Eggs of Birds, or upon Acorns, as they did in
some Parts of Spain in Pliny ‘ s Time. I would
if possible have nothing be wanting that could
be of Use in Life. For this Reason, more than
any other, Alexander was perfectly in the right
in not building a City upon Mount Athos
(though the Invention and Design of the Archi-
tect Policrates must needs have been wonder-
ful) because the Inhabitants could never have

36

1

been well supplied with Conveniences. Aristotle
was indeed best pleased with a Region that was
difficult of Access, and especially to build a
City in: And we find there have been some
Nations, which have chose to have their Con-
fines quite stript and laid into a Desart for a
great Way together, only in order to distress
their Enemies. Whether this Method is to be
approved or blamed, we shall examine in an-
other Place. If it is of Service in a publick
Regard, I cannot find Fault with it: But for
the Situation of other Buildings, I should much
rather chuse a Region that had many and dif-
ferent Ways of Access, for the easy bringing in
all Manner of Necessaries, both by Land-Car-
riage and Water-Carriage, as well in Winter
as in Summer. The Region itself likewise
should neither be too moist through too great
abundance of Water, nor too much parched
with Drought, but be kindly and temperate.

And if we cannot find one exactly in all Re-
spects as we would have it, let us chuse it ra-
ther somewhat cold and dry, than warm and
moist: For our Houses, our Cloaths, Fires,
and Exercise, will easily overcome the Cold;
neither is it believed, that the Dryness of a Soil
can have any thing in it very noxious, either to
the Bodies or Mind, only that by Dryness
Men’ s Bodies are hardened, and by Cold per-
haps made somewhat rougher: But it is held
for certain, that all Bodies corrupt with too
much Humidity, and are relaxed by Heat.

And we find that Men either in cold Weather,
or that live in cold Places, are more healthy
and less subject to Distempers; though it is al-
lowed, that in hot Climates Men have better
Wits, as they have better Constitutions in cold.

I have read in Appian the Historian, that the
Numidians are very long lived, because their
Winters are never too cold. That Region

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1

therefore will be far the best, which is just
moderately warm and moist, because that will
produce lusty handsome Men, and not subject
to Melancholy. Secondly, that Region will
be most eligible, which being placed among
Countries liable to Snow, enjoys more Sun
than its Neighbours; and among Countries
burnt by the Sun, that which has most Humi-
dity and Shade. But no Building, let it be
what it will, can be placed more unsightly or
inconveniently, than in a Valley down be-
tween two Hills; because, not to insist upon
more manifest Reasons, an Edifice so placed
has no Manner of Dignity, lying quite hid;
and it’ s Prospect being interrupted can have
neither Pleasure nor Beauty. But what is this
to those greater Mischiefs which will shortly
happen, when the House is overwhelmed by
Floods and filled with Waters that pour in up-
on it from the adjoining Hills; and imbibing

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1

continual Wet, rots and decays, and always
exhales Vapours extreamly noxious to the
Health of its Inhabitants. In such a Place,
the Understanding can never be clear, the
Spirits being dampt and stupified; nor will
any Kind of Bodies endure long. The Books
will grow mouldy and rot; the Arms will
rust, nothing in the Storehouse will keep, and
in short, the Excess of Moisture will spoil and
destroy every Thing. If the Sun shines in,
you will be scorched insufferably by the fre-
quent Reflection of his Rays, which will be
beat back upon you from every Side, and if it
does not, you will be dried and withered by
the continual Shade. Add to this, that if the
Winds gets in, being confined as it were in a
Channel, it will rage there with greater Fury
than in other Places; and if it never enters,
the Air for want of Motion will grow thick
and muddy; such a Valley may not impro-
perly be called a Puddle, or Bog of Air. The
Form of the Place therefore in which we in-
tend to build, ought to be graceful and plea-
sant, not mean and low, as if it were buried
below the rest of the Earth, but lofty, and as
it were a Hawk to look clear round about, and
constantly refreshed on every Side with de-
lightful Breezes. Besides this, let there be
Plenty of every Thing necessary, either to the
Convenience or Pleasure of Fife, as Water,
Fire and Provisions: But Care must be taken,
that there is nothing in any of these Things
prejudicial to the Health. The Springs must
be opened and tasted, and the Water tried by
Fire, that there be no Mixture in it of mucous,
viscous or crude Particles, that may affect the
Constitutions of the Inhabitants. I omit the
ill Effects that often proceed from Water, as
breeding Wens in the Throat, and giving the
Stone; as likewise those other more wonderful

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Effects of Water, which Vitruvius the Archi-
tect has learnedly and elegantly summed up.

It is the Opinion of the Physician Hipocrates,
that they who drink Water not well purged,
but heavy and ill-tasted, grow Cholicky, and
to have large swelled Bellies, while the rest of
their Members, their Arms, their Shoulders and
their Faces become thin and extenuated. Add
to this, that though the Fault of the Spleen ill
digesting of the Blood, they fall into several
Kinds of Diftempers, some even pestilential.

In Summer, Fluxes of the Belly by the stir-
ring of the Choler, and the dissolving of the
Humours waste all their Strength; and all the
Year round they are continually liable to heavy
and tedious Infirmities, such as the Dropsy,
Asthma and Pleurisy. The young lose their
Senses by melancholy Bile; the old are burnt
by the Inflammation of the Humours; the
Women with Difficulty conceive, and with
more Difficulty bring forth: In a Word, every
Age and every Sex will fall by early and un-
timely Deaths, destroyed and worn away by
Diseases; nor will they enjoy a single Day
while they live, without being tormented with
Melancholy or black Humours, and fretted
with Spleen and Vapours; so that their Minds
will never be free from Vexation and Uneasi-
ness. Many other Things might be said of
Water, which have been observed by the an-
cient Historians, very curious and remarkable,
and of extream Efficacy to the Health of Man-
kind; but they are uncommon, and might
seem rather intended to make a Shew of
Knowledge than for actual Use; besides that
we shall speak more copiously of Waters in
their proper Place. Thus much certainly is
not to be neglected, and is most manifest,
namely, that Water gives Nourishment to all
Plants, Seeds, and every Thing else that has

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the vegetative Life, with the Plenty of whose
Fruits Men are refreshed and supported. If
all this be granted, certainly we ought very
carefully to examine what Veins of Water the
Country is furnished with, in which we intend
to dwell. Diodorus tells us, that the Indians
are generally lusty strong Men, and very sharp
witted, which he imputes to their having a
wholesome Air and good Water. Now that
Water we conceive to be the best tasted which
has no Taste, and that is best coloured which
has no Colour at all. It is agreed, that the
best Water is clear, transparent and light, such
as being poured upon a white Cloth leaves no
Stain; and upon boiling has no Sediment, and
which does not cover the Bed it flows in with
Moss or Slime, nor especially the Stones which
it runs over. A further Proof of the Goodness
of Water is, when boiling any Kind of Pulse in
it makes them tender, and when it makes good
Bread. Neither should we be less careful to ex-
amine and note, whether the Region ingenders
nothing pestiferous or venemous, that the Inha-
bitants may be in no Danger. I pass over
some Things, which are recorded by the An-
cients, to wit, that in Colchos there distills from
the Leaves of the Trees a Honey, which who-
soever tastes falls senseless, and for a whole Day
seems to be dead: As also what is said to have
happened in Antony ‘ s Army, occasioned by

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certain Herbs, which the Soldiers eating for
want of Bread, grew besotted, and employed
themselves in nothing but digging Stones out
of the Ground, till their Choler being stirred
they fell down dead; nor was any Remedy
found against this Plague, as we are informed
by Plutarch, but drinking of Wine; these
Things are commonly known. But good
Heavens ! what shall we say to what has hap-
pened in our own Days in Apulia in Italy;
what incredible Effects of Poison have we seen
there! the Bite of a small Earth Spider, com-
monly called a Tarantula, throwing Men into
various Kinds of Madness, and even Fury; a
Thing strange to be told. No Swelling, no
livid Spot appealing in any Paid of the Body
from the sharp Bite or Sting of the venomous
Beast; but suddenly losing their Senses, they
fall piteously to bewail themselves, and if no
Assistance is given them they die. They cure
this Distemper with Theophrastus ‘ s Remedy,
who says, that Persons bit by Vipers used to
be cured by the Sound of Pipes. The Musi-
cians therefore with different Kinds of Har-
mony try to asswage the Pain, and when they
hit upon the Kind proper to the Patient, im-
mediately, as if he were suddenly awakened,
he starts up, and transported with Joy, falls to
bestirring himself to the Musick with all his
Strength, in whatever his Fancy prompts him
to. Some that are thus bit, you shall see ex-
ercise themselves in Dancing, others in Singing,
and others stirring in other Motions, just as
their Inclination or Madness guides them, till
through mere Weariness they are forced to
give over. And thus without giving them-
selves the least Rest, they will sweat themselves
for some Days, and so recover their Health
merely by their Madness having quite spent it-
self. We read too of something like this that

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1

happened among the Albanians, who sought
against Pompey with such a Power of Horse;
that there was a Sort of Cobweb among them,
which whoever touched surely died, some
Laughing, and others on the contrary Weeping.

CHAP. V.

By what Marks and Characters we are to know the Goodness of the Region.

Nor are those Things alone sufficient for
the chusing of the Region, which are
obvious and manifest of themselves; but we
must weigh every Circumstance, and consider
the most occult Tokens. Thus it will be a
good Sign of an excelient Air and of good Wa-
ter, if the Country produces Plenty of good
Fruits, if it fosters a good Number of Men of
a good old Age, if it abounds with lusty hand-
some Youth, if the People are fruitful, and if
the Births are natural and never monstrous. I
have myself seen some Cities, which out of Re-
spect to the Times I forbear to name, where
there is scarce a Woman, but what sees herself
at the same Instant, the Mother both of a Man
and of a Monster. Another City I know in
Italy, where there are so many People Hump-
backed, Squint-eyed, Crooked and Lame, that
there is scarce a Family, but what has Some-
body in it defective or distorted. And cer-
tainly, where we see such frequent and great
Inequalities of Pody to Body, and Member to
Member; we may well conclude, that it pro-
ceeds from some Defect in the Climate or Air,
or from some more hidden Cause of the Cor-
ruption of Nature. Nor is it foreign to our
Puipose what has been observed, that in a gross
Air we are more inclined to Hunger, and in a
thin One to Thirst: and we may not impro-
bably draw some Conjectures from the Shape

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and Looks of other Animals, what Constituti-
ons the Men will have in the same Place; for
if the Cattle look lively, fat and large, you
may not unreasonably hope to have Children
that will be so too. Neither will it be amiss to
gather Notice of the Air and Winds, even
from other Bodies not endued with animal
Life; thus if the Walls of the neighbouring
Buildings are grown rusty and rugged, it shews
that some malignant Influence has Power
there. The Trees too bending all one Way,
as if by general Consent, shew that they have
suffered the Force of high rough Winds; and
the very Stones, whether growing in their na-
tive Seats, or placed in Buildings, if their Tops
are any thing considerably rotted, shew the
Intemperature of the Air, sometimes too hot
and sometimes over cold. A Region so ex-
posed to the furious Assaults of Tempests is to
be avoided, as the very worst of all; for if the
Bodies of Men are seized with too excessive
Cold or Pleat, the whole Frame and Contex-

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ture of all the Parts is presently broken and
dissolved, and sails into dangerous Distempers
and immature old Age. A City standing at
the Foot of a Hill, and looking towards the
setting Sun, is accounted unhealthy, more for
this Reason than any other, that it feels too
suddenly the cold chilling Breezes of the Night.
It may likewise be convenient by looking back
into Times past, according to the Observations
of the Wise, to examine into Properties yet
more hidden, if there be such in the Place:

For there are Countries which have in their
Nature some Secret undiscovered Qualities,
which confer Happiness or Unhappiness. Lo-
cris and Crotona are said to have never been
infected with any Plague. In the Isle of
Candici there is no mischievous Creature. In
France very few Monsters are born; in other
Places the Naturalists say, that in the Middle
either of Summer or Winter it never Thunders:
But in Campania, according to Pliny, it Thun-
ders at those very Times over those Cities that
stand to the South; and the Mountains near
Albania are said to be called Ceraunia, from
the frequent Lightnings that fall upon it. The
Isle of Lemnos too being very subject to Light-
ning, was the Reason, Sen’ius informs us, of
the Poets feigning that Vulcan fell there from
Heaven. About the Streights of Gallipoli and
the Essedones, it was never known either to
Thunder or Lighten. If it Rains in /Egypt
it is reckoned a Prodigy. Near the Hydaspes
in the Beginning of Summer it Rains continu-
ally. They say that in Lybia the Air is so seldom
stirred by Winds, that it grows so thick, that
several Kinds of Vapours are visible in the Sky:
And on the Contrary, in most Parts of Gala-
tia, the Winds blow in Summer with so much
Violence, that it drives along the very Stones
like Sand. In Spain near the Ebro, they say

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the North-West Wind blows so hard, that it
overturns Carts heavy laden: In a E thiopia we
are told the South never blows, and Historians
write, that this Wind in Arabia and the
Country of the Troglodites burns up every
Thing that is green: And Thucydides affirms,
that Delos was never troubled with Earth-
quakes, but always stood firm upon the same
Rock, though the other Islands all about it
were often laid in Ruins by Earthquakes, We
ourselves see, that the Part of Italy, which
runs from the Selva dell’ Aglio below Rome,
all along the Ridge of Hills of the Campagna
di Roma quite to Capua, is perpetually stript
and almost quite laid waste by Earthquakes.
Some believe Achaia was so called from its sre-
quent Inundations of Water. I find that Rome
was always subject to Agues, and Galen takes
those Agues to be a new Kind of double Ter-
tian, which must have varions and almost di-
rect Remedies applied to it at different Sea-
sons. It is an old Fable among the Poets, that
Typho the Giant being buried in the Island of
Prochyta, often turns himself about, and with
his turning shakes the whole Island from its
very Foundation. The Reason of this Ficti-
on of the Poets was, because that Island was so
tormented with Earthquakes and Eruptions,
that the Erythreans and Chalcidians, who in-
habited it, were forced to fly for it. And a-
gain, aftewards those who were sent by Hiero of
Syracuse to build a new City there, frightened
with the continual Danger of Destruction, de-
serted it too. Wherefore all Things of this
Nature are to be sifted out from long Obser-
vation, and examined and compared by other
Places, in order to come at a clear and full
Knowledge of every Particular’.

CHAP. VI.

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1

Of some more hidden Conveniencies and Inconveniencies of the Region which a
wise Man ought to enquire into.

We ought further to enquire carefully,
whether the Region is used to be mo-
lested with any more hidden Inconveniency.

Plato believed, that in some Places the Influ-
ence of Spirits often reigned, and was at some-
times mischievous, and at others propitious to
the Inhabitants. It is certain there are some
Places where Men are very subject to run mad,
others where they are easily disposed to do
themselves a Mischief, and where they put an
End to their own Lives by Halters or Preci-
pices, Steel or Poison. It is therefore very ne-
cessary to examine by the most occult Traces
of Nature, every Thing that can be attended
with such Effects. It was an ancient Custom
brought down even from Demetrius ‘ s Time,

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not only in laying the Foundations of Cities
and Towns, but also in marking out Camps
for the Armies, to inspect the Entrails of the
Beast that grazed upon the Place, and to ob-
serve both their Condition and Colour. In
which if they chanced to find any Defect, they
avoided that Place as unhealthy. Varro in-
forms us of his own Knowledge, that in some
Places the Air was full of minute Animalcules
as small as Atoms, which being received toge-
ther with the Breath into the Lungs, fastened
upon the Intestines, and gnawing upon them,
caused dreadful raging Diseases, and at length
Plagues and Death. Nor ought we to forget
that there are some Places, which, though in
their own Nature, they are subject to no In-
convenience or Mischief whatsoever, yet are so
situated, that by the Arrival of Foreigners they
will often be infected with pestilential Distem-
pers. And this shall happen, not only by
Means of Armies of Enemies endeavouring to
do you all the Mischief they can, as befals those
Nations which are exposed to inhuman Barba-
rians; but by a friendly Reception and Enter-
tainment of them you shall expose yourself to
extreme Calamities. Others by having Neigh-
bours desirous of Innovations, have by their
Broils and Destruction fallen into great Dangers
themselves. Peru a City upon the Pontus, a
Colony of the Genoese, is continually afflicted
with the Plague, by their giving daily Admis-
sion to Slaves, both infirm in Mind, and almost
quste rotten and worn away with mere Filth
and Nastiness. Some likewise will have it, that
it is the Part of a prudent and wise Man to en-
quire by Augury and the Observation of the
Fieavens, what Fortune he shall have in such
a Place. Which Arts, provided they are not
incompatiable with our Religion, I own I do
not dispise. Who can deny that what they

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call Fortune, whatever she be, has a very great
Power over human Affairs? Can we venture
to affirm, that the publick Fortune of Rome had
not a great Share in the Enlargement of the
Empire? The City of Iolaus in Sardinia, built
by a Grandson of Hercules, though osten at-
tacked both by the Carthaginians and the Ro-
mans, yet as Diodorus writes, always preserved
its Li erty. Can we suppose that the Temple
at Delphos, first burnt by Flegias, should after-
wards in Sylla ‘ s Time be consumed by Fire,
the third Time, without the particular’ ill For-
tune of that Place? What shall we say of the
Capitol? Flow often has that been in Flames?
The City of the Sybarites, after repeated Cala-
mities, often deserted and often restored, at
length quite ruined, was utterly abandoned;
nay, those who fled from it were pursued by ill
Fortune, nor could they, by removing their
Dwellings and leaving the ancient Name of
their City, ever save themselves from Misery
and Destruction: For new Inhabitants coming
in upon them, all their most ancient and prin-
cipal Families, their sacred Edifices and their
whole City, were utterly laid waste and de-
stroyed with Fire and Sword. But we need
not dwell upon these Things which Flistorians
are full of. Our whole Design is to shew, that
it is the Part of a wise Man to do every thing
which may make him secure, that the Trouble
and Expence of his Building shall not be in
vain, and that his Work itself may be perma-
nent. And certainly to omit no Precaution
which may effect so great a Design, is the Bu-
siness of every prudent Man. Or will you say,
that it is not of the utmost Importance both to
you and yours to execute an Undertaking, that
brings with it Flealth, Dignity and Pleasure,
and recommends your Name with Reputation
to Posterity? Flere you are to apply yourselves

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to your Studies, here you are to breed
your dear Children and live with your Fa-
mily, here you are to spend your Days both
of Labour and Rest, here all the Schemes of
your whole Life are to be executed; so that
I do not think any Thing in the World can be
named, except Virtue, which can deserve more
Care and Application, than to fix a good and
convenient Flabitation for yourself and Family.

And who can be sure of having such a one,
who despises the Precautions before-mention-
ed? but of these enough. Come we now to
the Seat or Platform.

CHAP. VII.

Of the Seat or Platform, and of the several Sorts of Lines.

In chusing the Platform, we ought to ob-
serve all the same Rules that we have laid
down about the Region; for as the Region is
a determinate and select Paid of the whole

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1

Country, so the Platform is a certain determi-
nate Part of the Region taken up by the
Building; and for this Reason, any Thing that
may annoy or be of Service to the Region,
may do the same to the Platform. But though
this be so, yet our Discussion and Considerati-
ons here will offer us some Precepts, which
seem particularly to regard the Platform only;
and some again which do not seem so proper-
ly to belong to the Seat as in a great Measure
to the Region; which are these. It is neces-
sary to consider what Work we are taking in
Hand, publick or private, sacred or profane,
and so of the Rest, which we shall treat of dis-
tinctly in their proper Places. For one Situa-
tion and one Space is to be allotted to an Ex-
change, another to a Theatre, another to a
Palcestra, or Place of Exercise, and another to
a Temple; so that we must have regard to the
Quality and Use of every Edifice in the Deter-
mining of its Situation and Form. But to
proceed here only in a general Discussion of
these Things as we began, we shall touch on-
ly upon those Points which we judge neces-
sary: First saying something of Lines, which
may be of Service for understanding what fol-
lows. For being to treat of the Design of the
Platform, it will not be inconvenient to explain
those Things first whereof that Design con-
sists. Every Design therefore is composed of
Lines and Angles; the Lines are that extreme
Design which includes the whole Space of the
Platform. That Part of the Superficies of this
Design, which is contained between two Lines
touching at some certain Point, is called an
Angle. The Intersection therefore or crossing
of two Lines over each other form four Angles.
If each of these Angles be equal to all and each
of the other three, they are called right Angles;
if they are less, they are called acute, and the

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greater obtuse. Of Lines too some arc strait
and others curve; of involved winding Lines
it is not necessary to speak here. The strait
Line is a Line drawn from one Point to an-
other. the shortest Way that possibly can be.
The curve Line is Part of a Circle; a Circle
is a Draught made from one of two Points,
and turned upon the same Superficies in such a
Manner, that in its whole Circumference it is
never nearer nor farther from that immoveable
Point the Centre, than it was at the first Turn.
But to this it is necessary to add, that the curve
Line, which was said to be Part of the Circle,
among us Architects, for its Similitude, is call-
ed an Arch. And the strait Line, which is
drawn from the two extreme Points of the
curve Line, for the same Reason is called
a Chord. And that Line, which goes from
the middle Point of the Chord up to the
Arch, leaving equal Angles on each Side, is
called the Sagitta. And that which is carried
from the fixed immoveable Point within the
Circle to the curve Line of the Circle, is call-
ed the Radius. And that immoveable Point
in the Middle is called the Centre. And the
Line which passes through the Centre and
touches both Sides of the Circumference, is

called the Diameter. Arches too are different,
for some are entire, some are imperfect, and
some are composite. The entire is that which
is the full Half of a Circle, or that whose
Chord is the Diameter of the whole Circle.

The Imperfect is that whose Chord is less than
a Diameter, so that this imperfect Arch is Part
of a Semi-circle. The composite Arch is
formed of two imperfect Arches, and so the
joyning of those two Arches, intersecting each
other, makes an Angle at Top, which never

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happens either in the entire or imperfect Arch.

These Things being premised, we proceed as
follows.

  • CHAP. VIII.

Of the Kinds of Platforms, their Forms and Figures, and which are the most
serviceable and lasting.

Of Platforms, some are angular and others
circular; of the angular, some consist
all of right Lines, and some of right Lines
and curve mixed together. But I do not re-
member among the Buildings of the Ancients
to have met with any angular Design, com-
posed of several curve Lines, without any Mix-
ture of strait Lines at all: But in this we
should have regard to those Things, which be-
ing wanting in all Parts of the Structure, are
greatly blamed; and which, where they are,
make the Edifice handsome and convenient.

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It is that the Angles, the Lines and all the
Parts have a certain Variety, but not too much
nor too little of it, but so ordered both for
Use and Beauty, that the entire Parts may an-
swer to the entire, and like Parts to like. Right
Angles are very convenient; the Acute are
never used even in mean inconsiderable Plat-
forms, unless upon absolute Necessity, or the
Constraint of the Nature and Manner of the
Situation, or to make some other Part of the
Platform more graceful. The obtuse Angles,
have been thought very convenient, but it has
always been observed as a Rule never to place
them any where in unequal Numbers. The
circular Platform is esteemed to be the most
capacious of all, and the least expensive to en-
close either with Wall or Rampart. The
nearest to this is said to be that which has se-
veral Sides, but then they must be all alike and
answerable to each other, and equal through-
out the whole Platform. But those are com-
mended most of all, which are most conveni-
ent for raising the Wall to the just Heighth of
the Work, as are those which have six and
eight Sides. I have seen a Platform of ten
Angles very commodious and majestick. You
may make them very well of twelve, nay, six-
teen Angles. I myself have seen one of twenty-
four; but these are very rare. The Side Lines
ought to be so ordered, that those which are
opposite may be equal to them, nor should we
ever in any Work apply a long Line to corres-
pond to a short one; but let there be a just
and reasonable Proportion, according to the
Degree of the Thing, among all the Parts.

We would have the Angles set towards that
Side, which either any Weight of Earth, or the
Violence and Assaults of Waters or Winds may
threaten and endanger; to the Intent that the
Force and Shock that beats upon the Edifice

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may be broken and split into several Parts, re-
sisting the Attack (to use such an Expression)
with the stout Corner of the Wall, and not
with one of the weak Sides. But if the other
Lineaments of the Structure hinder you from
disposing of such an Angle in such a Paid as
you could desire, at least make use of a curve
Line; that being a Part of a Circle, and the
Circle itself according to the Philosophers be-
ing all Angles. Further, the Seat must be
either upon a Plain, or on the Side or Top of
a Hill; if it is on a Plain, it is necessary to
raise the Earth and make something of an E-
minence; for besides that, such a Situation in
a Plain adds much of Dignity, if you neglect to
do it, you will find very great Inconveniences.
For the overflowing of Rivers and Rains gene-
rally leaves Mud upon level Grounds, which by
degrees raises the Earth higher and higher,
which still increases, if through Negligence the
Rubbish and Dirt, which gathers every Day be
not removed. Frontinus the Architect used to
say, that several Hills were risen in Rome in his
Time by the continual Fires. But we in our
Days see it in a Manner quite buried under
Ground with Filth and Rubbish. In the
Dutchy of Spoletto, I have seen a small ancient
Temple, which at first was built in a Plain,
that is now almost wholly buried by the rais-
ing of the Earth; that Plain reaching to the
Foot of the Hills. But why should I menti-
on Buildings that stand under Mountains?

That noble Temple by the Wall of Ravenna,
which has for its Covering a Cup of Stone of
one single Piece, though it be near the Sea and
far enough from the Hills, is above a fourth
Part sunk in the Earth, through the Injury of
Time. But how high this Eminence ought
to be raised for each Platform, shall be shewn
in due Time, when we come to treat of that

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Subject more particularly, and not summarily
as we do here. It is certain every Situation
should be made strong, either by Nature or
Art. And therefore it is not amiss to follow
their Method, who advise first to try the Good-
ness of the Earth by digging in several Places at
some Distance the one from the other, whe-
ther it be firm or loose, or soft, fit or unfit to
bear the Weight of the Wall. For if it stands
upon a Descent, we must have a Care that the
upper Part does not lie too heavy and break
down the lower; or that the lower Part, if
any Accident should shake it, does not pull
the upper down along with it. I would have
this Part of the Building, which is intended to
be the Basis of all the Rest, particularly strong
and tightly knit together in all its Parts. If
the Seat be upon the Summit of an Hill, either
it should be raised where it is not even, or else
be made level by plaining away the Top. But
here we are to consider, that we should always
chuse that Way (though still with a due Re-
gard to the Dignity of the Work) which is least
troublesome and expensive. Perhaps it may be
proper to pare away some of the Top of the
Hill, and enlarge and add to the Sides. For
which Reason that Architect, whoever he was,
shewed a great deal of Contrivance, that built
Alatro, a Town of the Ccimpagna di Roma,
seated upon a Rocky Hill; for he so ordered

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it, that the Foundations of the Citadel or Tem-
ple (whatever it was) which are all that now
remain, the Superstructure being quite demo-
lished, should be supported and sortified be-
neath by the Pieces of Stone cut off in plaining
the Top of the Rock. And there is another
Thing in that Work that I am extremely
pleased with; namely, that he set the Angle
of the Platform towards that Side on which
the Rock has the most precipitate Descent, and
fortified that Angle with huge Pieces of the
Fragments piled up one upon the other, and
contrived by the joyning of the Stones to make
the Structure beautiful with a very little Ex-
pence. I am likewise very much pleased with
the Contrivance of that other Architect, who
not having a sufficient Quantity of Stone, in
order to keep up the Weight of the Hill, made
a Fence of a great Number of Semi-circles,
putting the Backs of the Curves within the
Hill; which besides that it looked handsome
to the Eye, was extremely strong and very
cheap; for it makes a Wall, which though not
solid, was as firm as if it had been solid, and of
the Thickness of the Sagitta of those Curves.

I like Vitruvius ‘ s Method too, which I find
was observed by the ancient Archi ects all over
Rome, and especially in Tar quin ‘ s Wall, of
making use of Buttresses; though they did not
every where mind to make the Distance be-
tween one Buttress and another, to be the same
as the Heighth of the Wall; but as the
Strength or Weakness of the Hill required it,
they placed them sometimes closer and some-
times further off. I have taken Notice too,
that the ancient Architects were not contented
with making one Slope for their Platform, but
raised several like so many Steps, which
strengthened and secured the Sides of the Hill
quite down to the very Root of it. Nor

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1

can I disapprove their Method herein. That
Stream at Perugia, which runs under Mount
Lucino and the Hill the Town stands upon,
continually undermining and eating away the
Root of the Mountain, by degrees brings down
all the impending Weight; by which means a
great Part of the Town drops and falls to
Ruin. I am mightily pleased with that Num-
ber of little Chapels, which are fixed about
the Area of the great Church in the Vatican;
for of these, such as are placed in the Hollows
of the Mountains close against the Wall of the
Church, are of great Service both as to Strength
and Convenience, in supporting the Weight of
the Hill, which continually grows heavier and
heavier, and in intercepting the Wet, which
falls from the Top of the Cliff, and keeping it
from getting into the Church; by which means
the principal Wall of it keeps dry and sound.
And those Chapels, which are placed on the
other Side at the lowest Decline of the Hill,
serve with their Arches to close the Plain,
which is made above, and preventing the Earth
from crumbling keeps it from falling in. And
I have observed that the Architect, who built
the Temple of Latona in Rome, contrived his
Work and his Structure very ingeniously; for
he so placed the Angle of the Platform within
the impending Hill, that two upright Walls
supported the incumbent Weight, and divided
and broke the Pressure by setting that Angle
against it. But since we have begun to cele-
bra e the Praises of the Ancients that contriv-
ed their Buildings prudently, I will not omit
one Thing which I recollect, and which is very
much to the present Puipose. In the Church
os St. Mark at Venice is a very useful Precauti-
on of the Architect, who having made the
Foundation of the Temple very strong, lest
every here and there a Hole, that if by chance

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any subterraneous Vapour or Wind should be
gathered there, it might easily find a Passage
out. To conclude, all the Plains that you
make which are to be under any Covering,
must be laid exactly level, but those which are
to be left open, should have just Slope enough
for the Rain to run off; but of this we have
said enough, and perhaps more than was re-
quisite in this Place; because most of these
Things respect the Walling. But as they happen-
ed to fall naturally together, we did not think
proper to separate them in our Discourse. It
remains that we treat of the Compartition.

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PLATE 1. ( Page 10)

” Arco Composto” — composite arch. “Arco Scemo” = imperfect arch. “Arco Intiero”
= entire arch. “Raggio” = radius. “Corda” = chord. “Diametro” = diameter.

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PLATE 2. (Page 18)

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CHAP. IX.

Of the Compartition, and of the Origin of Building.

The whole Force of the Invention and
all our Skill and Knowledge in the Art
of Building, is required in the Compartition:
Because the distinct Parts of the entire Building,
and, to use such a Word, the Entireness of each
of those Parts, and the Union and Agreement of
all the Lines and Angles in the Work, duly
ordered for Convenience, Pleasure and Beauty,
are disposed and measured out by the Com-
partition alone: for if a City, according to
the Opinion of Philosophers, be no more than
a great House, and, on the other Hand, a
House be a little City; why may it not be
said, that the Members of that House are so
many little Houses; such as the Court-yard,
the Hall, the Parlour, the Portico, and the
like? And what is there in any of these,
which, if omitted by Carelessness or Negli-
gence, will not greatly take from the Praise
and Dignity of the Work. Great Care and
Diligence therefore is to be used in well con-
sidering these Things, which so much con-
cern the whole Building; and in so ordering
it, that even the most inconsiderable Parts
may not be uncomformable to the Rules of
Art, and good Contrivance. What has been
already said above of the Region and Platform,
may be of no small use in doing of this aptly
and conveniently; and as the Members of the
Body are correspondent to each other, so it is
fit that one Part should answer to another in
a Building; whence we say, that great Edi-
fices require great Members. Which indeed
was so well observed by the Ancients, that
they used much larger Bricks, as well as other
Materials, about publick and large Buildings,

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than in private ones. To every Member there-
fore ought to be allotted its fit Place and pro-
per Situation; not less than Dignity requires,
not greater than Conveniency demands; not
in an impertinent or indecent Place, but in a
Situation so proper to itself, that it could be
set no where else more fitly. Nor should the
Part of the Structure, that is to be of the
greatest Honour, be thrown into a remote
Corner; nor that which ought to be the most
publick, into a private Hole; nor that which
should be most private, be set in too conspi-
cuous a Place. We should besides have re-
gard to the Seasons of the Year, and make a
great deal of Difference between hot Places
and cold, both in Proportions and Situation.

If Rooms for Summer are large and spacious,
and those for Winter more compact, it will
not be at all amiss; the Summer ones shady and
open to the Air, and the Winter ones to the
Sun. And here we should provide, that the
Inhabitants may not be obliged to pass out of
a cold Place into a hot one, without a Medium
of temperate Air; or out of a warm one into
one exposed to Cold and Winds; because no-
thing is so prejudicial to human Bodies. And
these ought to agree one Member with ano-
ther to perfect and compose the main Design
and Beauty of the whole; that we may not
so lay out our whole Study in adorning one
Part, as to leave the rest neglected and
homely in Comparison of it; but let them
bear that Proportion among themselves, that
they may appeal – to be an entire and perfect
Body, and not disjointed and unfinished
Members. Moreover in the forming of these
Members too, we ought to imitate the Modesty
of Nature; because in this, as well as in other
Cases, the World never commends a Modera-
tion, so much as it blames an extravagant In-

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temperance in Building. Let the Members
therefore be modestly proportioned, and ne-
cessary for your Uses. For all Building in
general, if you consider it well, owes it’ s
Birth to Necessity, was nursed by Convenience,
and embellished by Use; Pleasure was the
last Thing consulted in it, which is never
truly obtained by Things that are immode-
rate. Let your Building therefore be such,
that it may not want any Members which it
has not, and that those which it has, may
not in any Respect deserve to be condemned.
Nor would I have the Edifice terminated all
the Way with even continued Lines void of
all manner of Variety; for some please us by
their Largeness, others with being little, and
others moderate. One Part therefore should
be terminated with strait Lines, another with
curve, and another again with strait and curve
mixed together; provided you observe the
Caution I have so often given you, to avoid
falling into the Error of Excess, so as to seem

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to have made a Monster with Limbs dispro-
portionable: Variety is without Dispute a very
great Beauty in every Thing, when it joins and
brings together, in a regular manner, Things
different, but proportionable to each other;
but it is rather shocking, if they are unsuitable
and incoherent. For as in Musick, when the
Base answers the Treble, and the Tenor agrees
with both, there arises from that Variety of
Sounds an harmonious and wonderful Union
of Proportions which delights and enchants
our Senses; so the like happens in every thing
else that strikes and pleases our Fancy. Lastly,
these Things must be so executed, as Use or
Conveniency requires, or according to the
approved Practice of Men of Skill; because
deviating from established Custom, generally
robs a Thing of its whole Beauty, as conform-
ing to it, is applauded and attended with Suc-
cess. Nevertheless, tho’ other famous Archi-
tects seem, by their Practice, to have deter-
mined this or that Compartition, whether
Doric, or Ionic, or Corinthian, or Tuscan, to
be the most convenient of any; yet they do
not thereby tie us down to follow them so
closely, as to transcribe their very Designs into
this Work of ours; but only stir us up by
their Instructions to produce something of
our own Invention, and to endeavour to ac-
quire equal or greater Praise than they did.

But of these Things we shall speak more di-
stinctly in their proper Places, when we come
to consider in what manner a City and its
Members ought to be disposed, and every
thing necessary for the Convenience of
each.

CHAP. X.

Of the Columns and Walls, and some Observations relating to the Columns.

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We are now to treat summarily of the
Disposition of the Wall. But here I
must not omit what I have observed among
the Ancients; namely, that they constantly
avoided drawing any of the outer Lines of the
Platform quite strait, so as to let any great
Length go on without being interrupted by
the Concavity of some curve Line, or the In-
tersection of some Angle; and the Reason
why those wise Men did this is plain, that the
Wall, having, as it were, Props joined to it to
rest against, might be so much the stronger.

In treating of the Walling, we should begin
with the most noble Parts of it. This Place
theresore naturally leads us to speak of the Co-
lumns, and of the Things belonging to them;
a Row of Columns being indeed nothing else
but a Wall open and discontinued in several
Places. And having occasion to define a Co-
lumn, it would not be at all improper to say,
that it is a certain strong continued Part of
the Wall, earned up perpendicular from the
Foundation to the Top, for supporting the
Covering. In the whole Compass of the Art
of Building, you will find nothing, that either
for Workmanship, Expence or Beauty, de-
serves to be preferred before the Columns.

But these Columns having some Particulars in
which they differ from one another; in this
Place we shall speak only of their Agreement;
because that regards the Genus of them; but
as to their Difference, which relates to their
Species, we shall handle it in its proper Place.
To begin therefore as we may say from the
Root, every Column has its Foundation; this
Foundation being brought up to a Fevel with
the Plane of the Area, it was usual to raise
thereupon a kind of little Wall, which we
shall call the Plinth, others perhaps may call
it the Dye; upon the Plinth stood the Base,

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on the Base, the Column; and over the Co-
lumn the Capital; their Proportion was, that
from the middle downwards, they were some-
what bigger, and from thence upwards grew
more and more taper, and that the Foot was
something larger than the Top of all. I make
no doubt, that at first the Column was in-
vented to support the Covering. Afterwards
Men’ s Thoughts being stirred up to worthy
Attempts, they studied, tho’ themselves were
mortal, to make their Buildings in a Manner
immortal and eternal; and for this Reason
they made Columns, Architraves, Intabla-
tures, and Coverings all of Marble. And in
doing these Things, the ancient Architects al-
ways kept so close to Nature, as to seem, if
possible, never to have consulted any Thing
but mere Convenience in Building, and at the
same Time made it their Care, that their
Works should be not only strong and useful.

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but also pleasant to the Sight. Nature at first
certainly gave us Columns made of Wood,
and of a round Figure, afterwards by Use they
came in some Places to be cut square. There-
upon, if I judge right, seeing in these wooden
Columns certain Rings of Circles of Brass or
Iron, fasten’ d about the Top and Bottom, that
the continual Weight which they are made to
bear, might not split them; the Architects too
left at the Foot of their Columns of Marble, a
little Ring like a sort of Binding; whereby
they are defended from any Drops of Rain that
might dash up again upon them. And at the
Top too they left another little Band, and over
that an Astragal or Collar; with which helps
they observ’ d the Columns of Wood to be
fortified. In the Bases of their Columns it
was their Rule, that the under Part should
consist of strait Lines and right Angles, but
that their upper Superficies should terminate
circularly to answer to the Round of the Pil-
lar; and they made this Base on every Side
broader than high, and wider than the Column
by a determinate Part of itself; and the under
Superficies of the Base they made broader than
the upper; the Plinth too they would have a
certain Proportion broader than the Base, and
the Foundation again a determinate Part wider
than the Plinth. And all these Parts thus
placed one upon the other, they erected per-
pendicular from the Center of the Foundation.
On the other hand, the Capitals all agree in
this, that their under Parts imitate their
Columns, but their upper End in a Square;
and consequently the upper Part of the Capital
must always be somewhat broader than the
under. This may suffice here as to the
Columns. The Wall ought to be raised with
the same Proportions as the Columns; so that
if it is to be as high as the Column and its Ca-

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pital, its Thickness ought to be the same with
that of the bottom of the Column. And they
also observed this Rule, that there shou’ d be
neither Pillar, nor Base, nor Capital, nor Wall,
but what should in all respects correspond with
every thing else of the same Order, in Heighth,
Thickness, Form and Dimension. But tho’ both
are Faults, either to make the Wall too thin
or too thick, higher or lower than the Rule
and Proportion requires; yet of the two I
wo u’ d chuse to offend on that Side, where we
shou’ d have occasion to take away rather than
to add. And here I think it will not be amiss
to take notice of some Errors in Buildings,
that we our selves may be the more circum-
spect: in as much as the chief Praise is to be
exempt from Blame. I have observed there-
fore in St. Peter ’ s Church at Rome what indeed
the thing itself demonstrates, that it was ill ad-
vised to draw a very long and thick Wall over
so many frequent and continued Apertures,
without strength’ ning it with any curve Lines
or any other Fortification whatsoever. And
what more deserves our Notice, all this Wing
of Wall, under which are too frequent and
continued Apertures, and which is raised to a
great Fleighth, is exposed as a Butt to the im-
petuous Blasts of the North-East: by which
means already thro’ the continual Violence of
the Winds it is swerved from its Direction
above two Yards: and I doubt not that in a
short time, some little accidental shock will
throw it down into Ruins; and if it were not
kept in by the Timber Frame of the Roof, it
must infallibly have fallen down before now.
But the Architect may not be so much in
Fault, because consulting only the Necessity of
his Situation, he might perhaps imagine that
the Neighbourhood of the Mountain, which
overlooks the Church, might be a sufficient

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Shelter against the Winds. Nevertheless it is
certain, those Wings ought to have been more
strengthned on both Sides.

CHAP. XI.

Of the great Usefulness of the Coverings both to the Inhabitants and the other
Parts of the Building, and that being various in their Natures, they must be
made of various Sorts.

The Covering for Usefulness far exceeds
any other Part of the Building. It
not only secures the Health of the Inhabitants
by defending them from the Night, from the
Rain, and especially from the burning Rays of
the Sun; but it also preserves all the rest of the
Edifice. Take away the Covering and the
Materials rot, the Wall moulders and splits,

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and in short the whole Structure falls to Ruin.
The very Foundations themselves, which you
will hardly believe, are secured by the Pro-
tection of the Covering: nor have so many
Buildings been destroyed by Fire, Sword, War,
by Multitude of Enemies, and all other Ca-
lamities put together, as have gone to Ruin
by being left naked and uncovered thro Negli-
gence. It is certain the Coverings are the de-
fensive Arms of the Building against the
Assaults and Violence of Storms and Tempests.
Wherefore our Ancestors in this as in other
things acted very laudably, in ascribing so
much Flonour to the Covering, that they
spent their whole Art and Study in adorning
and beautifying it. For some of their Cover-
ings we see of Brass, others of Glass, some of
Gold with gilded Beams and Rafters, and
richly adorned with Cornishes of Flowers and
Statues. Of Coverings some are open to the
Air, others not: the open are those which arc
not for walking upon, but only for receiving
the Rain. Those not open to the Air, are
the Roofs and Coves that are between the
Covering and the Foundations, so that one
Flouse seems to stand upon another. By this
means it comes to pass that the same Work,
which is the Covering to the Apartments
below, is the Area to those above. Of these
Coverings those above our Pleads we call Roofs,
or Cielings; and those which we tread upon
with our Feet, Areas. Whether the uppermoft
Covering, which lies to the open Air, is to be
reckoned as an Area or Pavement, we shall
examine in another Place. But the Covering
to the open Air, tho’ it be of a plain Super-
ficies, ought never to lie even with respect to
the Area which it covers below; but shou’ d
always incline of one Side to throw off the
Rain. But the Coverings within, that are of

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a plain Superficies, should be in all Parts
equally distant from the Floor. All Coverings
must answer in Lines and Angles to the Form
and Shape of the Platform and Wall which
they are to cover: And as those are various,
some being all of curve Lines, others all of
strait, and others of both mixed together, the
Coverings too are therefore various, and of
several kinds. But tho’ they have this natural
Difference, and that some are hemispherical;
others made up of four Arches; others vaulted;
others consisting of Parts of several Arches;
some sloping or ridged like ordinary mean
Flouses: yet which-soever of these Kinds we
chuse it is absolutely necessary, that all Cover-
ings shou’ d be so disposed as to shelter and
shade the Pavement, and throw off all Water
and Rain, defending the whole Edifice upon
which it is placed for a Covering. For Rain
is always prepared to do Mischief, and where-
ever there is the least Crack never fails to get
in and do some Flurt or other: By its Subtility it
penetrates and makes its way by its Flumidity
rots and destroys, by its Continuance loosens
and unknits all the Nerves of the Building, and
in the End ruins and lays Waste the whole
Structure to the very Foundations. And for
this Reason prudent Architects have always
taken care that the Rain should have a free
Slope to run off; and that the Water should
never be stop’ d in any Place, or get into any
Part where it cou’ d do Flurt. And therefore
they advised, that in Places subject to much
Snow, the Coverings should have a very steep
Slope, rising even to an acute Angle, that the
Snow might never rest and gather upon them,
but fall off easily; but in more Summerish Cli-
mates (to use such an Expression) they laid
their Covering less oblique. Lastly we should
endeavour if possible, without Prejudice to the

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Lights or Wall, to have the whole Structure
overlaid with one equal Covering in a manner
all of one Piece, and so far jutting out, that the
Water falling from the Gutters may not wet
or soak into the Wall: and all the Coverings
should be so disposed, where there are more than
one, that one may not spout upon the other.

The Space of Covering too that the Water is
to run over should never be too large, because
upon Rains the Water gathering in the Gut-
ters in too great Abundance would wash back
again and flow into the House; which would
greatly prejudice the whole Work. Where
the Area therefore is very large, the Covering
should be divided into several Slopes, and the
Rain flow off in different Places; and this is
not only attended with Convenience, but Beauty
too. If you are obliged in any Place to have
several Coverings, let them join one to another
in such a Manner, that when you are once
under one, you may pass from that to all the
rest always under shelter.

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CHAP. XII.

Of the Apertures in the Building, that is to say of the Windows and Doors,
and of those which do not take up the whole Thickness of the Wall, and their
Number and Sizes.

We are now come to treat of the Aper-
tures, which are of two Sorts, the one
serving for the Admission of Light and Air,
and the other for the Entrance and Passage of
the Inhabitants, and of all Manner of Con-
veniencies all thro’ the House. Those for
Light are the Windows; those for Passage, the
Doors, Stairs, and the Spaces between the
Columns: Those too which are for the carrying
away of Water and Smoak, as Wells, Sinks,
the Gullets, as we may call them of Chimneys,
the Mouths of Ovens and Furnaces are also
called Apertures. No Room ought to be
without a Window, by which the inclosed
Air may be let out and renew’ d, because else
it will corrupt and grow unwholesome. Capi-
tolinas the Historian relates, that in the Tem-
ple of Apollo at Babylon there was found a lit-
tle Gold Casket of very great Antiquity, upon
opening of which there issued a Steam of Air,
corrupted by Length of Time, and so poisonous,
that spreading itself abroad, it not only killed
every body that was near, but infected all Asia
with a most dreadful Plague quite as far as Par-
thia. In the History of Ammianus Marcellinus,
we read, that in Seleucia in the Time of Mark
Anthony and Verus, after the Plunder and
Spoiling of the Temple, and carrying away
the Image of the Conic Apollo to Rome, they
discovered a little Hole which had been formerly
stop’ d up by the Chaldean Priests: Which being
opened by the Soldiers, out of a greedy Desire
of Plunder, sent forth a Vapour so dreadfully
pestilential and infectious, that from the Con-

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fines of Persia quite to Gaul, the whole Coun-
try was tainted with a mortal and loathsome
Distemper. Every Room therefore should
have Windows, not only to let in the Light,
but to renew the Air; and they ought to be
so accommodated to Convenience and the
Thickness of the Wall, as not to admit more
remote than Use and Necessity requires.
Morevover we are to take notice what Winds
our Windows are to stand open to; because
those which look towards a healthy Air may
be allow’ d to be large every Way; and it will not
be amiss to open them in such Manner that the Air
may go clear round the Bodies of the Inhabitants;
which may easily be contrived, if the Jambs of
the Windows are made so low, that you may
both see and be seen srom the Inside into the
Street. But such Windows as are exposed to
Winds not altogether so healthy, ought to be
so proportion’ d as to admit what Light is
requisite, but not any Thing larger than is just
necessary for that Use; and they should like—
wife be set high, that the Wall may break the
Winds before they reach us: Because by this
means we shall have Wind enough to renew
our Air, but so interrupted as to take off from
the ill Effects of it. We should also observe
what Suns our House stands to, and according
to various Conveniencies make the Windows
larger or smaller. In Summer Apartments, if
the Windows are to the North, they should be
made large every Way; but if they are to the
South Sun, it will be proper to make them low
and small; such being best adapted for Re-
ception of the Air, and least liable to be of-
fended by the Sun’ s Rays; and there is no
Danger such a Place should ever want Light,
when the Sun lies in a Manner continually
upon it; so that Shade and not Light is what
is to be consulted there. On the contrary in

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Apartments for Winter, the Windows will be
best contrived for admitting the Sun if they
are made large, and yet we may avoid being
troubled by the Winds at the same Time, if we
place them high, so that the cold Air may not
blow directly upon the People within. Lastly
from whatever Side we take in the Light, we
ought to make such an Opening for it, as may
always give us a free Sight of the Sky, and the
Top of that Opening ought never to be too
low, because we are to see the Light with our
Eyes; and not with our Heels; besides the In-
convenience, that if one Man gets between
nother and the Window, the Light is inter-
cepted, and all the rest of the Room is
darken’ d, which never happens when the Light
comes from above. The Doors should imitate
the Windows, that is, be larger or smaller,
more or fewer, according to the Frequency or
Necessity of the Place. But I observe, that

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the Ancients in their Publick Buildings always
eft a great many of both the afore-mention’ d
Kinds of Apertures. This appears from their
Theatres, which if we observe are extremely
full of Apertures, not only Stair-cases, but
Windows and Doors. And we ought so to
order the Proportions of these Openings, as
not to make very little ones in great Walls,
nor too large in small ones. In these Sorts of
Apertures various Designs have been com-
mended; but the best Architects have never
made Use of any but Squares and strait Lines.
However all have agreed in this, that let them
be of what Shape they will, they should be ac-
modated to the Bigness and Form of the

Building. *The Doors, then they
fay should always be more high than
broad; and the highest be such as
are capable of receiving two Circles [A] one
upon t’ other, and the lowest should be of
the Heighth of the Diagonal of a Square [B]
whereof the Groundsell is one of the Sides. It
is also convenient to place the Doors in such a
Manner, that they may lead to as many Parts
of the Edifice as possible: And in order to give
Beauty to such Apertures, Care must be taken
that those of like Dimensions correspond with
each other both on the Right and Left. It was
usual to leave the Windows and Doors in odd
Numbers, but so as for the Side ones to answer
each other, and that in the Middle to be
somewhat hu ger than the rest. And particular
Regard was always had to the S Length of the
Building, for which Reason they contrived to
set the Openings clear from the Corners and
from the Columns, in the weakest Parts of the
Wall, but not so weak as to be insufficient to
support the Weight: It being their Custom
to raise as many Parts of the Wall as they

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could plum, and as it were of one Piece
without any Interruption from the Foundation
quite up to the Covering. There is a certain
Kind of an Aperture, which in Form and
Position imitates the Doors and Windows, but
which does not penetrate the whole Thickness
of the Wall, and so, as Niches leave very
handsome and convenient Seats for Statues and
Paintings. But in what Parts these are to be
left, as also how frequent and large, will be
shewn more distinctly when we come to treat
of the Ornaments of Edifices. We shall only
observe here, that they not only add to the
Beauty of the Work, but also save some Ex-
pence, as they make less Stone and Lime to
serve for the Walling. This chiefly is to be
taken Care of, that you make these Niches in
convenient Numbers, not too big, and of a just
Form; and so as in their Order to imitate the
Windows. And let them be as you will, I
have remark’ d in the Structures of the Ancients,
that they never used to suffer them to take up
above the seventh Paid of the Front, nor less
than the ninth. The Spaces between the
Columns are to be reckoned among the princi-
pal Apertures, and are to be lest variously ac-
cording to the Variety of Buildings. But we
shall speak of these more clearly in their
proper Place, and chiesly when we treat of
Sacred Edifies. Let it be sufficient to premise
here, that those Openings should be left in such
a Manner, as to have particular Respect to the
Nature of the Columns, which are design’ d
for the Support of the Covering; and first, that
those Columns be not too small, nor stand too
thin, so as not to be duly able to bear the
Weight, nor too big, or set so thick as not to
leave open convenient Spaces for Passage.
Lastly, the Apertures must be different, when
the Columns are frequent from what they are

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when they stand thin, because over frequent
Columns we lay an Architrave, and over the
others we turn an Arch. But in all Openings
over which we make Arches, we should con-
trive to have the Arch never less than a half
Circle, with an Addition of the seventh Part
of half its Diameter: The most experienced
Workmen having found that Arch to be by
much the best adapted for enduring in a
Manner to Perpetuity; all other Arches being
thought less strong for supporting the Weight,
and more liable to ruin. It is moreover imagi-
ned, that the half Circle is the only Arch
which has no Occasion either for Chain or any
other Fortification; and all others, if you
don’ t either chain them or place some Weight
against them for a Counterpoise, are found by
their own Weight to burst out and fall to ruin.

I will not omit here what I have taken Notice
of among the Ancients, a Contrivance certainly
very excellent and Praise-worthy: Their best
Architects placed these Apertures and the
Arches of the Roofs of their Temples in such
a Manner, that even tho’ you took away every
Column from under them, yet they would
still stand firm and not fall down, the Arches
on which the Roof was placed being drawn
quite down to the Foundation with wonderful
Art, known but to few: So that the Work
upheld itself by being only set upon Arches; for
those Arches having the solid Earth for their
Chain, no Wonder they stood firm without any
other Support.

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Plate 2.

(facing
page 13)

CHAP. XIII.

Of the Stair cases, and their differen t Sorts, of the Steps of the Stairs which
ought to be in odd Numbers, and how many. Of the resting Places, of the
Tunnels for carrying away the Smoke. Of Pipes and Conduits for carrying
off the Water, and of the proper Placing of Wells and Sinks.

The placing of the Stairs is a Work of
such Nicety, that without deliberate
and mature Consideration you can never place
them well: For in a Stair-case there meet
three Apertures: One, the Door by which you
enter upon the Stairs; another, the Window
that supplies you with Light to see the Steps
by, and the third, the Opening in the Ceiling
which lets you into the Area above; and
therefore it is said to be no Wonder, that the
Stairs should perplex the Design of a Structure;
but let him that is desirous to have the Stair
not hinder him, take Care not to hinder the
Stair, but allow it a determinate and just Por-
tion of the Platform, in order to give its free
Course quite up to the Covering at the Top
of all. And do not let us repine that the
Stair-case should take up so much of the Area,
for it furnishes us with very many Conve-
niencies, and is no Inconvenience to the other
Parts of the Building. Add to this, that
those little Vaults and Spaces under the Stairs
are very serviceable for a great many Puiposes.

Our Stair-cases therefore are of two Sorts (for
as to those Steps or Ladders which belong to
military Expeditions, I shall not speak of them
here.) The first is that which has no Steps, but
is mounted by a sloping Ascent, and the other
is that which is mounted by Steps. The An-

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cients used to make the sloping one as easy
and as little steep as possible, and as I have
observed from their Works, thought it a con-
venient Ascent when the highest Part of its
Perpendicular was raised one sixth Part of the
Line at Bottom. In making of Stair-cases
with Steps, they recommend the making of
the Steps in odd Numbers, and especially in
their Temples: Because they said that by this
Means we always set our right Foot into the
Temple first; which was accounted a Point
of Religion. And I have observed, that the
best Architects never put above seven, or at
most nine Steps together in one Flight; imita-
ting I suppose, the Number either of the
Planets or of the Fleavens; but at the End of
these seven or nine Steps, they very consider-
ately made a Plain, that such as were weak or
tired with the Fatigue of the Ascent, might
have Leisure to rest themselves, and that if they
should chance to stumble, there might be a
Place to break their Fall, and give them Means
to recover themselves. And I am thoroughly
of Opinion, that the Stairs ought to be
frequently interrupted by these landing Places,
and that they should be well lighted, and be
ample and spacious according to the Dignity
of the Place. The Steps they never made
higher than nine Inches, nor lower than fix,
and in Breadth never less than a Foot and a
half, nor more than a Yard, The fewer Stair-
cases that are in a Flouse, and the less Room
they take up, the more convenient they are
esteem’ d. The Issues for Smoak and Water
ought to be as direct as possible, and so built,
that they may not lie and gather within, or
soil, or offend, or endanger the Building For
this Reason too the Tunnels of the Chimnies
should be earned quite clear from all Manner
of Wood-work, for fear some Spark, or their

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meer Heat should set Fire to the Beams or
Rafters that are near them. The Drains also
for carrying off the Water should be so con-
trived, as to convey away all Supersluities, and
in their Passage not to do any Hai m to the
House, either by sapping or dirtying it. For
if any of these Things do Mischief, let it be
ever so little, yet by Length of Time and con-
tinuation, they will in the End be of the utmost
ill Consequence; and I have observed, that
the best Architects have contrived either to
throw off the Rain by Spouts, so as not to wet
any body that is going into the House, or car-
ried it thro Pipes into Cisterns to serve for Use,
or else brought it together to some Place
where it might wash away all the Filth, so that
the Eyes and Noses of the Inhabitants might
not be offended with it. Indeed they seem
to have been particularly careful to throw the
Rain Water clear away from the Building,
that it might not sap the Foundations, as well

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as for several other Reasons. In a Word,
they were very observant to make all their
Apertures in the most convenient Places, and
where they might be most serviceable. I am
particularly for having the Wells set in the
most publick and open Part of the Structure,
so that they do not take off from the Dignity
of the Work, by being set in a Place improper
for them; and the Naturalists affirm, that
Water most exposed and open is best and most
purified. But in whatever Part of the Building
you make either Wells or Drains, or any other
Conveyance for the Water, they ought to
have such Apertures, as to admit a good
Quantity of Air, that the Pavement may be
kept dry from the damp Exhalations, which
will be purged and carried off by the Passage
of the Winds, and the Motion of the Air.

We have now taken a sufficient Review of the
Designs of Buildings, as far as they seem to
relate to the Work in general, noting each Par-
ticular by itself that we intend to speak of.

We are now to treat of the Work itself and
of the Structure of Edifies. But first we will
consider of the Materials, and of the Prepara-
tions necessary for the Materials.

End of the First Book.

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THE

ARCHITECTURE

OF

Leone Batista Alberti.

BOOK II. CHAP. I.

Treating of the Materials. That no Man ought to begin a Building hastily
but should first take a good deal of Time to consider, and revolve in his Min
all the Qualities and Requisites of such a Work: And that he should careful
review and examine, with the Advice of proper Judges, the whole Structuly
in itself, and the Proportions and Measures of every distinct Part, not o re
in Draughts or Paintings, but in actual Models of Wood or some othe Sunly
stance, that when he has finish’ cl his Building, he may not repent of his Labour.

I do not think the Labour and
Expence of a Building to be en-
ter’ d upon in a hurry; as well
for several other Reasons, as
also because a Man’ s Honour and
Reputation suffers by it. For as a Design
well and compleatly finish’ d brings Praise to
him that has employ’ d his Pains and Study in
the Work; so if in any particular the Author
seems to have been wanting, either of Art or
Prudence, it detracts very much from that
Praise, and from his Reputation. And indeed
the Beauties or Faults of Edifices, especially
publick ones, are in a Manner clear and mani-
fest to every body; and (I know not how it
happens) any Thing amiss sooner draws Con-
tempt, than any Thing handsome or well
finish’ d does Commendation. It is really won-
derful, how, by a Kind of natural Instinct, all
of us knowing or ignorant, immediately hit upon
what is right or wrong in the Contrivance or
Execution of Things, and what a shrewd Judg-
ment the Eye has in Works of this Nature
above all the other Senses. Whence it happens,
that if any Thing offers itself to us that is

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lame or too little, or unnecessary, or un-
graceful, we presently find ourselves moved
and desirous to have it handsomer. The Rea-
sons of those Faults perhaps we may not all of
us be acquainted with, and yet if we were to

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be ask’ d, there is none of us but would readily
say, that such a Thing might be remedied and
corrected. Indeed every one cannot propose
the Remedy, but only such as are well practi-
ced and experienced that Way. It is therefore
the Part of a wise Man to weigh and review
every particular thoroughly in his Mind: That
he may not afterwards be forced to say, either
in the Middle or at the End of this Work, I
wish this, or I wish that were otherwise. And
it is really surprizing, what a hearty Punish-
ment a Man suffers for a Work ill managed:

For in Process of Time, he himself at Length
finds out the Mistakes he foolishly made in the
Beginning for want of due Reflection: And
then, unless he pulls it to pieces and reforms
it, he is continually repenting and fretting at
the Eye-sore; or if he pulls it down, he is
blamed upon Account of the Loss and Expence,
and accused of Levity and Instability of Mind.
Suetonius tells us, that Julius Ccesar having
begun a Structure at the Lake Nemorensis from
the very Foundations, and compleated it at
vast Expence, puli’ d it all down again, because
it was not exactly in all respects to his Mind.
For which he is certainly very much to be
blamed, even by us his Posterity, either for
not sufficiently considering what was requisite
at first, or else afterwards for disliking thro’
Levity what might really not be amiss. I
therefore always highly commend the ancient
Custom of Builders, who not only in Draughts
and Paintings, but in real Models of Wood or
other Substance, examin’ d and weigh’ d over
and over again, with the Advice of Men of the
best Experience, the whole Work and the Ad-
measurements of all its Parts, before they put
themselves to the Expence or Trouble. By
making a Model you will have an Opportunity,
thoroughly to weigh and consider the Form

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and Situation of your Platform with respect to
the Region, what Extent is to be allow’ d to
it, the Number and Order of the Parts, how
the Walls are to be made, and how strong and
firm the Covering; and in a Word all those
Particulars which we have spoken of in the
preceding Book: And there you may easily
and freely add, retrench, alter, renew, and in
short change every Thing from one End to
t’ other, till all and every one of the Parts are
just as you would have them, and without Fault.
Add likewise, that you may then examine and
compute (what is by no means to be neglected)
the Particulars and Sum of your future Ex-
pence, the Size, Heighth, Thickness, Num-
ber, Extent, Form, Species and Quality of
all the Parts, how they are to be made, and
by what Artificers; because you will thereby
have a clear and distinct Idea of the Numbers
and Forms of your Columns, Capitals, Bases,
Cornishes, Pediments, Incrustations, Pave-
ments, Statues and the like, that relates either
to the Strength or Ornament. I must not
omit to observe, that the making of curious,
polish’ d Models, with the Delicacy of Painting,
is not required from an Architect that only
designs to shew the real Thing itself; but is
rather the Part of a vain Architect, that makes
it his Business by charming the Eye and
striking the Fancy of the Beholder, to divert
him from a rigorous Examination of the Parts
which he ought to make, and to draw him
into an Admiration of himself. For this Rea-
son I would not have the Models too exactly
finish’ d, nor too delicate and neat, but plain
and simple, more to be admired for the Con-
trivance of the Inventor, than the Hand of
the Workman. Between the Design of the
Painter and that of the Architect, there is this
Difference, that the Painter by the Exactness

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of his Shades, Lines and Angles, endeavours
to make the Parts seem to rise from the Can-
vass, whereas the Architect, without any Re-
gard to the Shades, makes his Relieves from
the Design of his Platform, as one that would
have his Work valued, not by the apparent
Perspective, but by the real Compartments
founded upon Reason. In a Word, you ought
to make such Models, and consider them by
yourself, and with others so diligently, and
examine them over and over so often, that
there shall not be a single Part in your whole
Structure, but what you are thoroughly ac-
quainted with, and know what Place and how
much Room it is to possess, and to what Use to
be applied. But above all, nothing requires
our Attention so much as the Covering, which
seems in its Nature, if I mistake not, beyond
any Thing else in Architecture to have been
of the greatest and first Convenience to Man-
kind; so that indeed it must be own’ d, that
it was upon the Account of this Covering that
they invented not only the Wall and those
other Parts which are carried up with the Wall
and necessarily accompany it, but also those
Parts which are made under Ground, such as
Conduits, Channels, Receptacles of Rain
Water, Sewers and the like. For my Part,
that have had no small Experience in Things of
this Nature, I indeed know the Difficulty of

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performing a Work, wherein the Parts arc
join’ d with Dignity, Convenience and Beauty,
having not only other Things praise-worthy,
but also a Variety of Ornaments, such as
Decency and Proportion requires; and this no
Question is a very great Matter; but to cover
all these with a proper, convenient and apt
Covering, is the Work of none but a very
great Master. To conclude, when the whole
Model and the Contrivance of all the Parts
greatly pleases both yourself and others of
good Experience, so that you have not the
least Doubt remaining within yourself, and do
not know of any Thing that wants the least
Re-examination; even then I would advise
you not to run furiously to the Execution out
of a Passion for Building, demolishing old
Structures, or laying mighty Foundations of
the whole Work, which rash and inconsiderate
Men are apt to do; but if you will hearken
to me, lay the Thoughts of it aside for some
Time, till this favourite Invention grows old.

Then take a fresh Review of every Thing,
when not being guided by a Fondness for your
Invention, but by the Truth and Reason of
Things you will be capable of judging more
clearly. Because in many Cases Time will
discover a great many Things to you, worth
Consideration and Reflection, which, be you
ever so accurate, might before escape you.

CHAP. II.

That we ought to undertake nothing above our Abilities, nor strive against
Nature, and that we ought also not only to consider what we can do,
but what is sit for us to do, and in what Place it is that we are to
build.

On examining your Model, among other
Points to be consider’ d, you must take

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Care not to forget these. First, not to under-
take a Thing, which is above the Power of
Man to do, and not to pretend to strive directly
contrary to the Nature of Things. For Na-
ture. if you force or wrest her out of her Way,
whatever Strength you may do it with, will
yet in the End overcome and break thro’ all
Opposition and Flindrance; and the most ob-
stinate Violence (to use such an Expression)
will at last be forced to yield to her daily and
continual Perseverence assisted by Length of
Time. Flow many of the mighty Works of
Men do we read of, and know ourselves to
have been destroy’ d by no other Cause than
that they contended against Nature? Who
does not laugh at him, that having made a
Bridge upon Ships, intended to ride over the
Sea? or rather, who does not hate him for his
Folly and Insolence? The Flaven of Claudius
below Ostia, and that of Hadrian near Terra –
cina, Works in all other Respects likely to last
to Eternity, yet now having their Mouths
stop’ d with Sand, and their Beds quite choak’ d
up, they have been long since totally destroy’ d
by the continual Assaults of the Sea, which in-
cessantly washing against it gains from it daily.
What then think ye will happen in any Place,
where you pretend to oppose or entirely repel
the Violence of Water, or the enormous
Weight of Rocks tumbling down on you in
Ruins? This being consider’ d, we ought never
to undertake any Thing that is not exactly
agreeable to Nature; and moreover we should
take Care not to enter upon a Work in which
we may be so much wanting to ourselves as to
be forced to leave it imperfect. Who would
not have blamed Tarquin, King of the Romans,
if the Gods had not favoured the Greatness of
the City, and if by the Enlargement of the
Empire he had not received an Accession of

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Wealth sufficient to compleat the Magnificence
of his Beginning, for throwing away the whole
Expence of his future Work in laying the
Foundations of his Temple. Besides it is not
amiss to consider, and that not in the last
Place, not only what you are able, but also
what is decent for you to do. I do not com-
mend Rhodope of Thrace, the famous Courtezan,
and the Wonder of her Days, for building her-
self a Sepulcher of incredible Expence: For
though she might possibly by her Whoredom
have acquired the Riches of a Queen, yet she
was by no means worthy of a Royal Sepulcher.
But on the other Hand I do not blame Arte-
misia, Queen of Caria, for having built her
beloved and worthy Consort a most stately

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Mausoleum: Though in Things of that Nature,

I think Modesty is best. Horace blamed
Mcecenas for having too furious a Passion for
Building. I commend him, who according to
Cornelius Tacitus , built Otho ’ s Sepulcher, modest,
but extremely durable. And though it be
true that private Monuments require Modesty
and publick ones Magnificence; yet publick
ones too are sometimes praised for being as
modest as the others. We admire Pompey ‘ s
Theatre for the surprizing Greatness and Dig-
nity of the Work: A Work truly worthy of
Pompey and of Rome in the Midst of her
Victories: but Nero ‘ s unadvisedly Fondness for
Building, and mad Passion for Undertaking im-
mense Designs, is commended by nobody.

And besides, who would not rather have
wish’ d, that he who employ’ d so many thou-
sand Men to bore through the Hill near Poz-
zuolo, had taken the same Pains, and bestowed
the same Expence upon some Work of greater
Use? Who will not detest the monstrous Folly
and Vanity of Heliogabalus? who had Thoughts
of erecting a huge Column with Stairs on the
Inside of it to mount to the Top, whereon
Heliogabalus himself was to be set as a God,
which he pretended to make himself. But not
being able to find a Stone of that Bigness, tho’
he sought for it quite to Tliebais, he desisted
from his wild Design. Hereunto we may add,
that we ought not to begin a Thing, which
though in some Respects worthy and useful,
and not altogether so difficult of Execution,
some particular Opportunity or Means savouring
it at that Time, that yet is of a Nature to sail
soon to decay, either thro’ the Neglience of
Successors, or Dislike of the Inhabitants. I
therefore find Fault with the Canal which Nero
made navigable for Callies with five Rows of
Oars from Avernus to Ostia, as well

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other Accounts, as because the Maintaining of
it seem’ d to require perpetual and e ernal
Felicity of the Empire, and a Succession of
Princes all inclined to the same Works. These
Considerations being granted, we ought to re-
flect duly upon all the Particulars before-
mention’ d, that is to say, what Work we un-
dertake, the Place we are to build in, and
what the Person is that is to build; and to con-
trive every Thing according to his Dignity and
Necessities, is the Paid of a discreet and pru-
dent Architect.

CHAP. XII.

That having consider’ cl the whole Disposition of the Building in all the Parts
of the Model, we ought to take the Advice of prudent and understanding Men,
and before we begin our Work, it will not only be proper to know how to
raise Money for the Expence, but also long before hand to provide all the
Materials for compleating such an Undertaking.

Having weigh’ d and consider’ d these
Things you must proceed to the Ex-
amination of the Rest, whether each of them
be perfectly contrived and conveniently dis-
posed in its proper Place. And to do this ef-
fectually, it is necessary you should be full of
this Persuasion, all the while you are medita-
ting upon these Things, that it will be a Scandal
to you, if as far as in you lies, you suffer any
other Building with the same Expence or Ad-
vantages to gain more Praise and Approbation
than your own. Nor is it sufficient in these
Cases to be only not despised, unless you are
highly and principally commended, and then
imitated. Therefore we ought to be as severe
and diligent as possible in our Scrutiny of every
Particular, as well to suffer nothing but what
is excellent and elegant, as to have all Things
mutually concur to make the whole Handsome

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and Beautiful, insomuch that whatever you at-
tempted to add, or retrench, or alter, should
be for the Worse and make a Defect. But
herein, I repeat my Advice, let your Mode-
rator be the Prudence and Counsel of the most
experienced Judges, whose Approbation is
founded upon Knowledge and Sincerity: Be-
cause by their Skill and Directions you will be
much more likely, than by your own private
Will and Opinion, to attain to Perfection or
Something very near it. And besides, the
Praise of good Judges is the highest Satisfaction;
and as for others they praise you sufficiently, and
indeed too much in not doing Something bet-
ter themselves. So that you will be sure of

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the Pleasure of having the Approbation of all
that understand these Matters. And you may
find your Advantage in hearkning to every
Body; for sometimes it happens, that Persons
of no Skill make Observations by no Means to
be despised. When therefore you have well
weigh’ d, review’ d, and examin’ d all the Parts
of your Model, and all the Proportions of the
whole Building, so that there is not the least
Particular any where about it, which you have
not consider’ d and reflected upon, and that
you are fully resolved to build in that Man-
ner in every Respect, and can raise the Money
conveniently for heal ing the Expence; then
prepare the other Things necessary for the Ex-
ecution of your Work, that when you have
begun, nothing may be wanting so as to pre-
vent your finishing your Structure expeditiously.
For as you will have Occasion for a great Num-
ber of Things for carrying on the Business, and
as if but one is unprovided, it may stop or spoil
the whole Work, it is your Care to have every
Thing at Hand that may be of Use to you, if
provided, or a Detriment, if wanting. The
Kings of Judea , David and Solomon, when
they had undertaken to build the Temple of
Jerusalem, having amass’ d great Quantities of
Gold, Silver, Brass, Timber, Stone and the
like Materials, that they might want Nothing
that could be serviceable in the easy and speedy
Execution of the Work (as Eusebius Pamphilus
tells us) sent to the neighbouring Kings for
several Thousands of Workmen and Architects.
Which I highly commend: Because it cer-
tainly adds Dignity to the Work, and encreases
the Glory of the Author; and Structures that
have been handsomely contrived and speedily
finish’ d besides, have been very much celebra-
ted by ancient Writers. Quintus Curtins re-
lates that Alexander the Great, in Building a

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City, and that no very small one, near the
Tanais, spent but seven Days; and Josephus
the Historian tells us, that Nebuchadnezzer
built the Temple of Belus in fifteen, and in the
same Space of Time girt the City of Babylon
with three Circuits of Walls. That Titus
made a Wall little less than five Miles long,
and Semiramis near Babylon built the eighth
Part of a Mile of a prodigious Wall every
Day; and that she erected another of above
five and twenty Miles in Length, very High
and Thick, to confine the Lake, and in no
more than seven Days. But of these in
another Place.

CHAP. VI.

What Materials are to be provided for the Building, what Workmen to be
chose, and in what Seasons, according to the Opinions of the Ancien ts, to cut
Timber.

The Things to be prepared are these,

Lime, Timber, Sand, Stone, as also
Iron, Brass, Lead, Glass and the like. But
the Thing of greatest Consequence is to
chuse skilful Workmen, not light or incon-
stant, whom you may trust with the Care
and Management of an Edifice well design’ d,
and who will compleat it with all Expedition.

And in fixing upon all these, it will be of Use
to you to be somewhat guided by the Considera-
tion of other Works already finish’ d in your
Neighbourhood, and by the Information you
receive from them to determine what to do in
your own Case. For by observing the Faults
and Beauties in them, you will consider that
the same may happen in yours. Nero the
Emperor having form’ d a Design of dedica-
cating a huge Statue of an hundred and twenty
Foot high in Honour of the Sun at Rome, ex-

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ceeding any Thing that had been done before
in Greatness and Magnificence, as Pliny re-
lates, before he gave final Orders for the
Work to Zenodarus, a famous and excellent
Sculptor in those Days, would first see his Ca-
pacity for such a Work by a Colossus of ex-
traordinary Weight, which he had made in
the Country of Auvergne in France. These
Things duly consider’ d, we proceed to the
others. We intend, then, in treating of the
Materials necessary for Building, to repeat
those Things which have been taught us by the
most learned among the Ancients, and particu-
larly Theophrastus, Ari otle, Cato, Varro,

Pliny and Virgil, because they have learned
more from long Observation than from any
Quickness of Genius; so that they are best
gathered from those who have observed them
with the greatest Diligence. We shall there-

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fore go on to collect those Rules which the
most approved Ancients have left us in many
and various Places, and to these, according to
our Custom, we shall add whatever we our-
selves have deduced from antique Works, or
the Instructions of most experienced Artificers,
if we happen to know any Thing that may be
serviceable to our Puipose. And I believe it
will be the best Method, following Nature
herself, to begin with those Things which were
sirst in Use among Men in their Buildings;
which, if we mistake not, were Timber Trees
which they fell’ d in the Woods: Though
among Authors, I find, some arc divided
upon this very Subject. Some will have it,
that Men at first dwelt in Caves, and that
they and their Cattle were both sheltered
under the same Roof; and therefore they
believe what Pliny tells us, that one Gellius
Texius was the first, that, in Imitation of Na-
ture built himself a House of Mud. Diodorus
says that Vesta, the Daughter of Saturn, was
the first that invented Houses. Eusebius
Pamphilus, an excellent Searcher into Antiqui-
ty, tells us from the Testimony of the Ancients,
that the Grandsons of Protogenes first taught
Men the Building of Houses, which they
patch’ d up of Reeds and Bullrushes: But to
return to our Subject. The Ancients, then,
and particularly Theophrastus, inform us, that
most Trees, and especially the Fir, the Pitch-
free and the Pine, ought to be cut immediately,
when they begin to put forth their young
Shoots, when through their abundance of Sap
you most easily strip off the Bark. But that
there are some Trees, as the Maple, the Elm,
the Ash, and the Linden, which are best cut
after Vintage. The Oak if cut in Summer,
they observe is apt to breed Worms; but if in
Winter, it will keep sound and not split.

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And it is not foreign to our Puipose what they
remark, that Wood which is cut in Winter, in
a North Wind, though it be green, will never-
theless burn extremely well, and in a Manner
without Smoak; which manifestly shews that
their Juices are not crude, but well digested.
Vitruvius is for cutting Timber from the be-
ginning of Autumn, till such Time as the soft
Westerly Winds begin to blow. And Hesiod
says, that when the Sun darts his burning Rays
directly upon our Heads, and turns Mens Com-
plections to brown, then is the Time for Har-
vest, but that when the Trees drop their
Leaves, then is the Season for cutting of Tim-
ber. Cato moderates the Matter thus; let the
Oak, says he, be felled during the Solstice, be-
cause in Winter it is always out of Season; other
Woods that bear Seed may be cut when that
is mature; those that bear none, when you
please. Those that have their Seeds green and
ripe at the same Time, should be cut when
that is fallen, but the Elm when the Leaves
drop. And they say it is of very great Im-
portance, what Age the Moon is of when you
fell your Timber: For they are all of Opini-
on, and especially Varro , that the Influence of
the Moon is so powerful over Things of this
Nature, that even they who cut their Heir in
the Wane of the Moon, shall soon grow bald;
and for this Reason, they tell us, Tiberius ob-
served certain Days for cutting his Hair. The
Astrologers affirm, that your Spirits will al-
ways be oppressed with Melancholly, if you
cut your Nails or Hair while the Moon is op-
pressed or ill disposed. It is to our present
Puipose what they say, that such Things as
are designed in their Uses to be moveable,
ought to be cut and wrought when the Moon
is in Libra or Cancer; but such as are to be
fixed and immoveable, when she is in Leo,

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Taurus, or the like. But that Timber ought
to be cut in the Wane of the Moon, all the
Learned are agreed, because they hold that the
flegmatick Moisture, so very liable to immedi-
ate Putrefaction, is then almost quite dried up,
and it is certain, that when it is cut in such a
Moon, it is never apt to breed Worms. Hence
they say you ought to reap the Corn which
you intend to sell, at full Moon; because then
the Ears are full; but that which you intend
to keep in the Wane. It is also evident, that
the Leaves of Trees cropt in the Wane of the
Moon do not rot. Columella thinks it best to
fell Timber from the twentieth to the thirtieth
Day of the Moon’ s Age; Vegetius, from the
fifteenth to the two and twentieth; and hence
he supposes the religious Ceremony to arise, of
celebrating all Mysteries relating to Eternity
only on those Days, because Wood cut then
lasted in a Manner for ever. They add, that
we should likewise observe the Setting of the
Moon. But Pliny thinks it a proper Time to
fell Trees when the Dog-star reigns, and when
the Moon is in Conjunction with the Sun,
which Day is called an Interlunium, and says
it is good to wait for the Night of that Day
too, till the Moon is set. The Astronomers
say, the Reason of this is, because the Action
of the Moon puts the Fluids of all Bodies into
Motion; and that therefore when those Fluids

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are drawn down, or left by the Moon in the
lowest Roots, the Rest of the Timber is clearer
and sounder. Moreover they think that the
Tree will be much more serviceable, if it is not
cut quite down immediately, but chopt round
about, and so left standing upon the Stump to
dry. And they say, that if the Fir (which is
not the most unapt to suffer by Moisture) be
barked in the Wane of the Moon, it will never
afterwards be liable to be rotted by Water.

There are some who affirm that if the Oak,
which is so heavy a Wood that naturally it
sinks in the Water, be chopt round the Bot-
tom in the Beginning of Spring, and cut down
when it has lost its Leaves, it will have such
an Effect upon it, that it will float for the
Space of ninety Days and not sink. Others
advise to chop the Trees which you leave thus
upon their Stumps, half way through, that the
Corruption and bad Juices may distil through,
and be earned off. They add, that the Trees,
which are designed to be sawed or planed,
should not be cut down till they have brought
their Fruits and ripened their Seeds; and that
Trees so cut, especially Fruit-bearers, should
be barked, because while they are covered with
the Bark, Corruption is very apt to gather be-
tween the Rind and the Tree.

CHAP. V.

Of preserving the Trees after they are cut, what to plaister or anoint them with,
of the Remedies against their Infirmities, and of allotting them their proper
Places in the Building.

After the Timber is cut, it must be

laid where the scorching Heat of the

Sun or rude Blasts of Winds never come; and

especially, that which falls of itself, ought to

be very well protected with Shade. And for

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this Reason, the ancient Architects used to
plaister it over with Ox-Dung; which Theo-
phrastus says they did, because by that Means
all the Pores being stopped up, the superfluous
Flegm and Humidity concreting within, dis-
tils and vents itself by Degrees through the
Heart, by which Means the Dryness of the
other Parts of the Wood is condensed by its
drying equally throughout. And they are of
Opinion that Trees dry better, if set with their
Heads downward. Moreover, they prescribe
various Remedies against their decaying and
other Infirmities. Theophrastus thinks that
burying of Timber hardens it extremely. Cato
advises to anoint it with Lees of Oil, to pre-
serve it from all Manner of Worms; and we
all know that Pitch is a Defence to it against
Water. They say that Wood, which has been
soaked in the Dregs of Oil, will burn without
the Offence of Smoak. Pliny writes, that in
the Labyrinth of Egypt, there are a great
many Beams made of the Egyptian Thorn
rubed over with Oil, and Theophrastus says,
that Timber dawbed over with Glue will
not burn. Nor will I omit what we read in
Aldus Geilius, taken out of the Annals of Quin-
tus Claudius, that Archeiaus, Mithridates ‘ s Pre-
fect, having thoroughly debawbed a wooden
Tower in the Pi ram m with Allum, when
Syiia besieged it, it would not take Fire. Se-
veral Woods are hardened and strengthened a-
gainst the Assaults of Storms in various Man-
ners. They bury the Citron-wood under
Ground, plaistered over with Wax, for seven
Days, and after an Intermission of as many
more, lay it under Heaps of Corn for the same
Space of Time, whereby it becomes not only
stronger but easier to be wrought, because it
takes away a very considerable Part of its
Weight; and they say too, that the same

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Wood thus dryed, being afterwards laid some
time in the Sea, acquires a Hardness incredibly
solid and incorruptible. It is certain the Ches-
nut Tree is purged by the Sea-water. Pliny
writes, the Egyptian Fig-tree is laid under
Water to dry and grow lighter, for at first it
will sink to the Bottom. We see that our
Workmen lay their Timber under Water or
Dung for thirty Days, especially such as they
design for turning, by which Means they think
it is better dried and more easily worked for
all Manner of Uses. There are some who af-
firm, that all Manner of Woods agree in this,
that if you bury them in some moist Place
while they are green, they will endure for ever;
but whether you preserve it in Woods, or bury,
or anoint it, the Experienced are universally of
this Opinion, that you must not meddle with
it under three Months: The Timber must have

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Time to harden and to get a Kind of Matu-
rity of Strength before it is applied to Use.

After it is thus prepared, Cato directs, that it
must not be brought out into the Air but in
the Wane of the Moon, and after Mid-day, and
even in the Wane of the Moon he condemns
the four Days next after the fisteenth, and pre-
cautions us against bringing it out in a South
Wind. And when we bring it out, we must
take Care not to draw it through the Dew,
nor to saw or cut it when it is covered with
Dew or Frost, but only when it is perfectly dry
in all Respects.

CHAP. VI.

What Woods are most proper for Building, their Natures and Uses, how they
are to be employed, and what Part of the Edifice each Kind is most fit for.

Theophrastus thinks that Timber is not dry
enough for the making of Planks, especi-
ally for Doors, in less than three Years. The
Trees of most Use for Building were reckoned
to be these; the Holm, and all other Sorts of
Oaks, the Beech, the Poplar, the Linden, the
Willow, the Alder, the Ash, the Pine, the Cy-
press, the Olive, both Wild and Garden, the
Chesnut, the Larch Tree, the Box, the Cedar,
the Ebony, and even the Vine: But all these
are various in their Natures, and therefore must
be applied to various Uses. Some are better
than others to be exposed without Doors,
others must be used within; some delight in
the open Air, others harden in the Water, and
will endure almost for ever under Ground;
some are good to make nice Boards, and for
Sculptures, and all Manner of Joyner’ s Work;
some for Beams and Rafters; others are stronger
for supporting open Terrasses, and Coverings;
and the Alder, for Piles to make a Foundation

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in a River or marshy Ground, exceeds all other
Trees, and bears the Wet incomparably well,
but will not last at all in the Air or Sun. On
the contrary, the Beech will not endure the
Wet at all. The Elm, set in the open Air,
hardens extremely; but else it splits and will
not last. The Pitch Tree and Pine, if buried
under Ground, are wonderfully durable. But
the Oak, being hard, close, and nervous, and
of the smallest Pores, not admitting any Mois-
ture, is the properest of any for all Manner of
Works under Ground, capable of supporting
the greatest Weights, and is the strongest of
Columns. But though Nature has endued it
with so much Hardness that it cannot be bored
unless it be soaked, yet above Ground it is
reckoned inconstant, and to warp and grow
unmanageable, and in the Sea-water quickly
rots; which does not happen to the Olive, nor
Holm Oak, nor Wild Olive, though in other
Things they agree with the Oak. The Mast-
Holm never consumes with Age, because it’ s
Inside is juicy, and as it were always green.
The Beech likewise and the Chesnut do not
rot in the Water, and are reckoned among the
principal Trees for Works under Ground. The
Cork Tree also, and the wild Pine, the Mul-
berry, the Maple, and the Elm are not amiss
for Columns. Theophrastus recommends the
Negropont Nut Tree for Beams and Rafters,
because before it breaks it gives Notice by a
Crack, which formerly saved the Lives of a
great many People, who, upon the falling of
the publick Baths at Andros , by Means of that
Warning had Time to make their Escape. But
the Fir is much the Best for that Use; for as it
is one of the Biggest and Thickest of Trees, so
it is endued with a natural Stiffness, that will
not easily give way to the Weight that is laid
upon it, but stands firm and never yields. Add

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besides, that it is easy to work, and does not
lie too heavy upon the Wall. In short, many
Perfections, and Uses, and great Praises are as-
cribed to this single Wood; nevertheless we
cannot disown that it has one Fault, which is,
that it is too apt to catch Fire. Not inferior
to this for Roofs, is the Cypress, a Tree, in
many other Respects so useful, that it claims a
principal Rank among the most excellent. The
Ancients reckoned it as one of the Best, and
not inferior to Cedar or Ebony. In India the
Cypress is valued almost equal with the Spice
Trees, and with good Reason; for whatever
Praises may be bestowed upon the Ammony or
Cirenaic Field Pine, which Theophrastus says is
everlasting, yet if you consult either Smell,
Beauty, Strength. Bigness, Straitness, or Du-
ration, or all these together, what Tree can you
put in Competition with the Cypress? It is

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affirmed that the Cypress never suffers either
by Worms or Age, and never splits of its own
accord. For this Reason Plato was of Opinion,
that the publick Laws and Statutes should be
carved in sacred Tables of Cypress, believing
they would be more lasting than Tables of
Brass. This Topick naturally leads me to give
an Account of what I myself remember to
have read and observ’ d of this Wood. It is re-
lated that the Gates of the Temple of Diana,
at Ephesus, being of Cypress, lasted four hun-
dred Years, and preserved their Beauty in such
a Manner that they always seemed to be new.

In the Church of St. Peter at Rome, upon the
repairing of the Gates by Pope Eugenius, I
found, that where they had not been injured
by the Violence of the Enemy in stripping a-
way the Silver with which they were formerly
covered, they had continued whole and sound
above five hundred and fifty Years; for if we
examing the Annals of the Roman Pontiffs, so
long it is from the Time of Hadrian the Third,
who set them up, to Eugene the Fourth. There-
fore, though the Fir is very much commended
for making Rafters, yet the Cypress is prefer-
red before it, perhaps only upon this one Ac-
count, namely, that it is more lasting; but
then it is heavier than the Fir. The Pine and
Pitch Trees also are valued, for the Pine is
supposed to have the same Quality as the Fir,
of rising against the Weight that is laid upon
it: But between the Fir and the Pine there is
this Difference, among others, that the Firs is
less injured by Worms, because the Pine is of a
sweeter Juice than the Fir. I do not know
any Wood that is to be preferred to the Farch,
or Tuipentine Tree, which, within my Obser-
vation, has supported Buildings perfectly strong,
and to a very great Age, in many Places, and
particularly in those very ancient Structures in

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the Market-place at Venice, and indeed this one
Tree is reckoned to be furnished with the Con-
veniences of all the Rest; it is nervous, tena-
cious of its Strength, unmoveable in Storms,
not molested with Worms; and it is an anci-
ent Opinion, that against the Injuries of Fire
it remains invincible, and in a Manner unhurt,
insomuch that they advise us, on whatever Side
we are apprehensive of Fire, to place Beams of
Larch by Way of Security. It is true I have
seen it take Fire and burn, but yet in such a
Manner that it seemed to disdain the Flames,
and to threaten to drive them away. It has
indeed one Defect, which is, that in Sea-wa-
ter it is very apt to breed Worms. For Beams
the Oak and Olive are accounted improper,
because of their Heaviness, and that they give
Way beneath the Weight that is laid upon
them, and are apt to warp even of themselves;
besides, all Trees that arc more inclinable to
break into Shivers than to split, are unfit for
Beams; such are the Olive, the Fig, the Lin-
den, the Sallow, and the like. It is a surpriz-
ing Property which they relate of the Palm
Tree, that it rises against the Weight that is
laid upon it, and bends upwards in spite of all
Resistance. For Beams and Coverings ex-
posed to the open Air, the Juniper is greatly
commended; and Pliny says it has the same
Properties as the Cedar, but is sounder. The
Olive too is reckoned extreamly durable, and
the Box is esteemed as one of the Best of all.
Nor is the Chesnut, though apt to cleave and
split, rejected for Works to the open Air. But
the wild Olive they particularly esteem sor the
same Reason as the Cypress, because it never
breeds Worms, which is the Advantage of all
Trees that have oily and gummy Juices, espe-
cially if those Juices are bitter. The Worm
never enters into such Trees, and it is certain

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they exclude all Moisture from without. Con-
trary to these are supposed to be all Woods
that have Juices of a sweet Taste, and which
easily take Fire; out of which, nevertheless,
they except the sweet as well as the wild Olive.
Vitruvius says, that the Flolm Oak and Beech
are very weak in their Nature against Storms,
and do not endure to a great Age. Pliny says,
that the Mast-holm soon rots. But the Fir,
and particularly that which grows in the Alps,
for Uses within Doors, as for Bedsteads, Ta-
bles, Doors, Benches, and the like, is excel-
lent; because it is, in its Nature, very dry, and
very tenacious of the Glue. The Pitch-Tree
and Cypress also are very good for such Uses;
the Beech for other Service is too brittle, but
does mighty well for Coffers and Beds, and
will saw into extreme thin Planks, as will like-
wise the Scarlet-Oak. The Chesnut, on the
Contrary, the Elm, and the Ash are reckoned
very unfit for Planks, because they easily split,
and though they split slowly, they are very in-
clinable to it; though else the Ash is account-
ed very obedient in all Manner of Works. But
I am surprized the Ancients have not celebra-
ted the Nut Tree; which, as Experience shews
us, is extremely tractable, and good for most
Uses, and especially for Boards or Planks,

They commend the Mulberry-Tree, both for
its Durableness, and because by Length of

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it grows blacker and handsomer. Theophrastus
tells us. that the Rich used to make their
Doors of the Lote-Tree, the Scarlet-Oak, and
of Box. The Elm, because it firmly main-
tains its Strength, is said to be very proper for
Jambs of Doors, but it should be set with its
Head downwards. Cato says, that Levers
ought to be made of Holly, Laurel, and Elm:
Lor Bars and Bolts, they recommend the Cor-
nel-Tree; for Stairs, the wild Ash or the
Maple. They hollowed the Pine, the Pitch-
Tree and the Elm for Aqueducts, but they say
unless they are buried under Ground they pre-
sently decay. Lastly, the Lemale Larch-Tree,
which is almost of the Colour of Honey, for
the Ornaments of Edifices and for Tables for
Painting, they found to be in a Manner eternal
and never crack or split; and besides, as its
Veins run short, not long, they used it for the
Images of their Gods, as they did also the
Lote, the Box, the Cedar, and the Cypress
too, and the large Roots of the Olive, and the
Egyptian Peach-Tree, which they say is like
the Lote-Tree.

IE they had Occasion to turn any Thing
long and round, they used the Beech, the
Mulberry, the Tree that yields the Tuipentine,
but especially the most close bodied Box, most
excellent for Turning; and for very curious
Works, the Ebony. Neither for Statues or
Pictures did they despise the Poplar, both
white and black, the Sallow, the Hornbeam,
the Service-Tree, the Elder, and the Fig;
which Woods, by their Dryness and Evenness,
are not only good for receiving and preserving
the Gums and Colours of the Painter, but are
wonderfully soft and easy under the Carver’ s
Tool for expressing all Manner of Forms.
Though it is certain that none of these for

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Tractableness can compare with the Linden.
Some there are that for Statues chuse the Jubol-
Tree. Contrary to these is the Oak, which
will never join either with itself or any other
Wood of the same Nature, and despises all
Manner of Glue: The same Defect is suppos’ d
to be in all Trees that are grained, and in-
clin’ d to distil. Wood that is easily plain’ d,
and has a close Body, is never well to be
fasten’ d with Glue; and those also that are of
different Natures, as the Ivy, the Laurel and
the Linden, which are hot, if glued to those
that grow in moist Places, which are all in
their Natures cold, never hold long together.

The Elm, the Ash, the Mulberry, and the
Cherry-Tree, being dry, do not agree with the
Plane Tree or the Alder, which are Moist.

Nay, the Ancients were so far from joining
together Woods different in their Natures, that
they would not so much as place them near
one another. And for this Reason Vitruvius
advises us against joining Planks of Beech and
Oak together.

CHAP. VII.

Of Trees more summarily.

But to speak of all these more sum-
marily. All Authors are agreed that
Trees which do not bear Fruit are stronger and
sounder than those which do; and that the
wild ones, which are not cultivated either with
Hand or Steel, are harder than the Domestick.
Theophrastus says, that the wild ones never fall
into any Infirmities that kill them, whereas the
Domestick and Fruit-bearers are subject to
very considerable Infirmities; and among the
Fruit-bearers those which bear early are
weaker than those which bear late, and the

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Sweet than the Tart; and among the tart ones,
such are accounted the Firmest, that have the
Sharpest and the least Fruit. Those that bear Fruit
only once in two Years, and those which are
entirely barren, have more Knots in them than
those which bear every Year; the Shortest
likewise are the Flardest, and the Barren grow
faster than the Fruitful. They say likewise
that such Trees as grow in an open Place, un-
shelter’ d either by Woods or Flills, but shaken
by frequent Storms and Winds, are stronger
and thicker, but at the same Time shorter and
more knotty than such as grow down in a Val-
ley, or in any other Place defended from the
Winds. They also believe that Trees which
grow in moist shady Places are more tender
than those which grow in a dry open Situation,
and that those which stand exposed to the
North are more serviceable than those which
grow to the South. They reject, as abortive
all Trees that grow in Places not agreeable to
their Natures, and though such as stand to the

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South arc very hard, yet they are apt to warp
in their Sap, so that they are not strait and
even enough for Service, Moreover, those
which are in their Natures dry and slow growers,
are stronger than those which are moist and
fruitful; wherefore Varro suppos’ d that the
one were Male and the other Female, and that
white Timber was less close and more tractable
than that which has any other Colour in it.

It is certain that heavy Wood is harder and
closer than light; and the Lighter it is, the
more Brittle; and the more Knotty the stronger.
Trees likewise which Nature has endu’ d with
the longest Life, she has always endu’ d with
the Property of keeping longest from Decay
when cut down, and the less Sap they have, so
much they are the S Longer and more Flardy.

The Parts nearest to the Sap are indeed
harder and closer than the rest; but those next
the Bark have more binding Nerves, for it is
suppos’ d, in Trees just as in Animals, the Bark
is the Skin, the Parts next under the Bark are
the Flesh, and that which encloses the Sap, the
Bone; and Aristotle thought the Knots in Plants
were in the Nature of Nerves. Of all the Parts
of the Tree, the worst is the Alburnum, or
Juice, that nourishes it, both because it is very
apt to breed Worms, and upon several other
Accounts. To these Observations we may
add, that the Part of the Tree which, while
it was standing, was towards the South, will
be dryer than the rest, and thinner, and more
extenuated, but it will be firmer and closer;
and the Sap will be nearer to the Bark on that
Side than on the other. Those Parts also
which are nearest to the Ground and to the
Roots, will be heavier than any of the rest; a
Proof whereof is that they will hardly float
upon the Water; and the Middle of all Trees
is the most knotty. The Veins too, the nea-

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rer they are to the Roots, the more they are
wreath’ d and contorted; nevertheless the
lower Parts are reckoned always stronger and
more useful than the Upper. But I find in
good Authors some very remarkable Things
of some Trees; they say that the Vine exceeds
even the Eternity of Time itself. In Popolonia,
near Piombino, there was a Statue of Jupiter
made of that Wood to be seen in CSsar ‘ s Days,
which had lasted for a vast Number of Years
without the least Decay; and indeed i is uni-
versally allow’ d that there is no Wood what-
soever more durable. In Ariana, a Province
of India, there are Vines so large, as Strabo
informs us, that two Men can hardly embrace
its Trunk. They tell us of a Roof of Cedar
in Utica that lasted twelve Hundred and
seventy eight Years. In a Temple of Diana
in Spain they speak of Rafters o Juniper, that
lasted from two Hundred Years before the
Siege of Troy quite to the Days of Hanibal.

The Cedar too is of a most wonderful Nature,
if as they say it is the only Wood that will
not retain the Nails. In the Mountains near
the Lake Benacus, or the Lago cli Garda,
grows a Kind of Fir, which, if you make
Vessels of it, will not hold the Wine, unless
you first anoint them with Oil. Thus much
for Trees.

CHAP. VIII.

Of Stones in general, when they are to be dug, and when used; which are the
softest and which the hardest, and which best and most durable.

We must likewise make Provision of the
Stone which is to be used in our
Walls, and this is of two Sorts; the one proper
only sor making the Lime and the Cement,
the other for erecting the Building. Of

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this latter we shall treat first, omitting many
Particulars, both for the Sake of Brevity, and
because they are already sufficiently known.
Neither shall we spend any Time here in phi-
losophical Enquiries about the Principle and
Origin of Stones; as, whether their first Par-
ticles, made viscous by a Mixture of Earth and
Water, harden first into Slime, and afterwards
into Stone; or what is said of Gems, that
they are collected and concreted by the Heat
and Power of the Rays of the Sun, or rather
that there is in the Bosom of the Earth certain
natural Seeds as of other Things, so also of
Stones: And whether their Colour is owing
to a certain proper blending of the Particles of
Water with very minute ones of Earth; or to
some innate Quality of its own Seed, or to an
Impression receiv’ d from the Sun’ s Rays. And
though these Disquisitions might perhaps help

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to adorn our Work, I shall omit them, and
proceed to treat of the Method of Building as
addressing myself to Artificers approv’ d for
Skill and Experience, with more Freedom
than perhaps would be allow’ d by those who
are sor more exact philosophising. Cato advises
to dig the Stone in Summer, to let it lie in the
open Air, and not to use it under two Years:

In Summer, to the Intent that it may grow
accustom’ d by Degrees to Wind, Rain, and
Frost, and other Inclemen ies of the Weather,
which it had not felt before. For if Stone,
immediately upon its being dug out of the
Quarry, while it is full of its native Juice and
Humidity, is expos’ d to severe Winds and
sudden Frosts, it will split and break to Pieces.
It should be kept in the open Air, in order to
prove the Goodness of each particular Stone,
and how well it is able to resist the Accidents
that injure it, making Experiment by this small
Trial, how long they are likely to hold against
the Assaults of Time. They should not be
used under two Years, to the Intent that you
may have Time to find out such among them
as are weak in their Nature, and likely to dam-
age the Work, and to seperate them from the
good ones; for it is certain, in one and the
same Kind of Stones there is a Difference in
Goodness of any Sort of Stone, and its Fit-
ness for this or that particular Situation, is best
learnt from Use and Experience; and you
may much sooner come at their Values and
Properties from old Buildings, than from the
Writings and Precepts of Philosphers. How-
ever, to say something briefly of Stones in ge-
neral, we will beg Feave to offer the follow-
ing Observations.

AFF white Stone is softer than red, the clear
is more easily wrought than the Cloudy, and

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the more like Salt it looks, the harder it is to
work. Stone that looks as if it were strew’ d
over with a bright shining Sand, is harsh; if
little Sparks, as it were, of Gold are intermix’ d,
it will be stubborn; if it has a Kind of little
black Points in it, it will be hard to get out
of the Quarry: That which is spotted with
angular Drops is sponger than that which has
round ones, and the smaller those Drops are,
the harder it will be; and the finer and clearer
the Colour is, the longer it will last. The
Stone that has fewest Veins, will be most
entire, and when the Veins come nearest in
Colour to the adjoining Parts of the Stone, it
will prove most equal throughout: The smaller
the Veins, the handsomer; the more winding
they run, the more untoward; and the more
knotty, the worse. Of these Veins that is
most apt to split which has in the Middle a
reddish Streak, or of the Colour of rotten
Oker. Much of the same Nature is that which
is stain’ d here and there with the Colour of
faded Grass, but the most difficult of all is
such as looks like a cloudy Piece of Ice. A
Multitude of Veins shews the Stone to be de-
ceitful and apt to crack; and the straiter they
are, the more unsaithful. Upon breaking a
Stone, the more fine and polish’ d the Frag-
ments appeal – , the closer bodied it is; and that
which when broken has its Outside the least
rugged, will be more manageable than those
which are rough. Of the Rough ones, those
which are whitest will be worst for working;
whereas, on the Contrary, in brown Stones,
those of the smallest and finest Grain are least
obedient to the Tool. All mean ordinary
Stones are the Flarder for being spungy, and
that which being sprinkled with Water is long-
est in drying, is the most crude.

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ALL heavy Stones are more solid and easier
to polish than light ones, which upon rubbing
is much more apt to come off in Flakes than
such as are heavy. That which upon being
struck gives the best Sound, is closer made than
that which sounds dull; and that which upon
strong Friction smells of Sulphur, is stronger
than that which yields no Smell at all. Last-
ly, that which makes the most Resistance against
the Chizzel will be most firm and rigid against
the Violence of Storms. They say, that those
Stones which hold together in the largest Scant-
lings at the Mouth of the Quarry, are firmest
against the Weather. All Stone too is softer
when it is just dug up, than after it has been
some Time in the Air, and when it is wetted,
or sostened with Water, is more yielding to the
Tool than when it is dry. Also such Stones as
are dug out of the moistest Paid of the Quarry,
will be the closest when they come to be dry;
and it is thought that Stones are easier wrought
in a South-wind than in a North, and are more
apt to split in a North-wind than in a South.

But if you have a Mind to make an Experi-
ment how your Stone will hold out against
Time, you may judge from hence: If a Piece
of it, which you soak in Water, increases much
of its Weight, it will be apt to be rotted by
Moisture; and that which flies to Pieces in
Fire, will bear neither Sun nor Fleat. Neither
do I think that we ought to omit here some
Things worthy Memorial, which the Ancients
relate of some Stones.

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CHAP. IX.

Some Things worthy Memorial, relating to Stones, left us by the Ancients.

It will not be foreign to our Purpose to hear
what a Variety there is in Stones, and
what admirable Qualities some are endued
with, that we may be able to apply each to its
properest Use. In the Territory of Bolsena and
Stratone, they tell us there is a Stone extremely
proper for all Manner of Buildings, which nei-
ther Fire nor any Injuries of Weather ever af-
fects, and which preserves the Lineaments of
Statues beyond any other. Tacitus writes, that
when Nero repaired the City, which lay in
Ruins by the Flames, he made use of the Al-
banian and Gabinian Stone for Beams, because
the Fire never hurts that Stone.

IN the Territory of the Genoese and of Ve-
nice, in the Dutchy of Spoletto, in the March
of Anconia, and near Burgundy, they find a
white Stone, which is easily cut with a Saw
and polish’ d, which if it were not for the
Weakness and Brittleness of its Nature, would
be used by every body; but any thing of
Frost or Wet rots and breaks it, and it is not
strong enough to resist the Winds from the
Sea. Istria produces a Stone very like Marble,
but if touch’ d either by Flame or Vapour, it
immediately flies in Pieces, which indeed is
said to be the Case of all Stones, especially of
Flint both white and black, that they cannot
endure Fire.

IN the Campagna cli Roma is a Stone of the
Colour of black Ashes, in which there seems
to be Coals mix’ d and interspers’ d, which is
beyond Imagination easy to be wrought with
Iron, thoroughly sound, and not weak against

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Fire or Weather; but it is so dry and thirsty,
that it presently drinks and burns up the Moi-
sture of the Cement, and reduces it perfectly
into Powder, so that the Junctures opening,
the Work presently decays and falls to Ruins.
But round Stones, and especially those which
are found in Rivers, arc of a Nature directly
contrary; for being always moist, they never
bind with the Cement. But what a surprizing
Discovery is this which has been made, name-
ly, that the Marble in the Quarry grows! in
these our Days they have found at Rome under
Ground a Number of small Pieces of Trever-
tine Stone, very porous and spungy, which by
the Nourishment (if we may so call it) given
it by the Earth and by Time, are grown to-
gether into one Piece.

IN the Lake di pie di Luco, in that Part
where the Water tumbles down a broken Pre-
cipice into the River Nera, you may perceive
that the upper Edge of the Bank has grown
continually, insomuch that some have believ’ d
that this Encrease and Growth of the Stone
has in Length of Time closed up the Mouth
of the Valley and turn’ d it into a Lake.

BELOW la Basilicata, not far from the River
Silari, on that Side where the Water flows
from some high Rocks towards the East, there
are daily seen to grow huge Pieces of hanging
Stone, of such a Magnitude, that any one of
them would be a Load for several Carts. This
Stone while it is fresh and moist with its natu-
ral Juices, is very soft; but when it is dry, it
grows extremely hard, and very good for all
Manner of Uses. I have known the like hap-
pen in ancient Aqueducts, whose Mouths,
having contracted a Kind of Gumminess, have
seem’ d incrusted all over with Stone. There

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are two very remarkable Things to be seen at
this Day in Romania: In the Country of
Imola is a very steep Torrent, which daily
throws out, sometimes in one Place and some-
times in another, a great Number of round
Stones, generated within the Bowels of the
Earth: In the Territory of Faenza, on the
Banks of the River Lamona, there are found a
great many Stones, naturally long and large,
which continually throw out a considerable
Quantity of Salt, which in Process of Time is
thought to grow into Stone too. In that of
Florence, near the River Chiane, there is a Piece
of Ground all skew’ d over with hard Stones,
which every seven Years dissolve into Clods of
Earth.

Pliny relates, that near Cizicus, and about
Cassandra, the Clods of Earth turn into Stone.

In Pozzuolo there is a Dust which hardens into
Stone, if mix’ d with Sea-water. All the Way
upon the Shore from Oropus to Aulis, every
thing that is wash’ d by the Sea is petrified.
Diodorus writes, that in Arabia the Clods dug
out of the Ground have a sweet Smell, and

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will melt in Fire like Metal, and run into Stone;
and he adds, that this Stone is of such a Na-
ture, that when the Rain falls upon it in any
Building, the Cement all dissolves, and the
Wall grows to be all of a Piece.

WE are told, that they find in Troas, a
Stone very apt to cleave, call’ d the Sarcopha-
gus, in which any dead Coipse buried, is in-
tirely consurn’ d in less than forty Days, all
but the Teeth; and which is most surprizing,
all the Flabits, and every Thing buryed with
the Body, turns into Stone. Of a contrary
Nature to this is the Stone called Chemites,
in which Darius was buried, for that preserves
the Body entire for a long Time. But of this
Subject enough.

CHAP. X.

Of the Origin of the Use of Bricks, in what Season they ought to be made,
and in what Shapes, their different Sorts, and the Usefulness of triangular
Ones; and briefly, of all other Works made of baked Earth.

It is certain the Ancients were very fond of
using Bricks instead of Stone. I confess,

I believe that at first Men were put upon mak-
ing Bricks to supply the Place of Stone in
their Buildings, thro’ Scarcity and Want of it;
but afterwards finding how ready they were
in working, how well adapted both to Use
and Beauty, how strong and durable, they pro-
ceeded to make not only their ordinary Struc-
tures, but even their Palaces of Brick. At
last, either by Accident or Industry, discover-
ing what Use Fire was of in hardening and
strengthening them, they began in most Places
to bake the Bricks they built with. And srorn
my own Observations upon the ancient Struc-
tures, I will be bold to say, that there is not a

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better Material for any Sort of Edifice than
Brick, not crude but baked; provided a right
Method be used in baking them. But we will
reserve the Praises of Works make of Bricks
for another Place.

OUR Business is to observe here, that a
whitish chalky Earth is very much recom-
mended for making them. The reddish also
is approved of, and that which is call’ d male
Sand. That which is absolutely sandy and
gravelly is to be avoided, and the stony most
of all; because in baking it is subject to warp
and crack, and if over baked will fret away of
itself. We are advised not to make our Bricks
of Earth fresh dug, but to dig it in the Au-
tumn, and leave it to digest all Winter, and to
make it into Brick early in the Spring; for if
you make it in Winter, it is obvious that the
Frost will crack it, and if you make it in the
Middle of Summer, the excessive Heat will
make it scale off in drying. But if Necessity
obliges you to make it in Winter, in extreme
cold Weather, cover it immediately over with
very dry Sand, and if in Summer, with wet
Straw; for being so kept, it will neither crack
nor warp. Some are for having their Bricks
glazed; if so, you must take Care not to make
them of Earth that is either sandy, or too lean
or dry; sor these will suck and eat away the
Glazing: But you must make them of a whitish
fat Clay, and you must make them thin, for
if they are too thick they will not bake tho-
rowly, and it is a great Chance but they split;
if you are oblig’ d to have them thick, you may
in a great Measure prevent that Inconveniency,
if you make one or more little Holes in them
about halfWay through, whereby the Damp
and Vapour having proper Vents, they will
both dry and bake the better.

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THE Petters rub their Vessels over with
Chalk, by which Means, the Glazing, when
it is melted over it, makes an even Surface;
the same Method may be used in making
Bricks. I have observ’ d in the Works of the
Ancients, that their Bricks have a Mixture of a
certain Proportion of Sand, and especially of
the red Sort, and I find they also mix’ d them
with red Earth, and even with Marble. I know
by Experience that the very same Earth will
make harder and stronger Brick, if we take the
Pains to knead every Lump two or three Times
over, as if we were making of Bread, till it
grows like Wax, and is persectly clear of the
least Particle of Stone. These, when they have
pass’ d the Fire will attain the Hardness even
of a Flint, and whether owing to the Heat in
baking, or the Air in drying, will get a Sort
of a strong Crust, as Bread does. It will there-
fore be best to make them thin, that they
may have the more Crust and the less Crum:

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PLATE 3. ( Page 35)

“Muraglia etc . ” = wall of triangular bricks.

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1

And we shall find, that if they are well rubb’ d
and polished, they will defy the Fury of the
Weather. The same is true of Stones that are
polished, which thereby escape being eaten
with Rust. And it is thought that Bricks
should be rubbed and ground either immedi-
ately upon their being taken out of the Kiln,
before they are wetted; or when they have
been wetted, before they are dry again; be-
cause when once they have been wetted and
afterwards dryed, they grow so hard that they
will turn and break the Edge of the Tool;
but they are easier to grind when they are new,
and hardly cold. There were three Sorts of
Bricks among the Ancients; the First was a
Foot and an Flalf Fong, and a Foot Bread, the
Second fifteen Inches every Way, the Third a
Foot. We see in some of their Buildings, and
especially in their Arches and Mosaick Works,
Bricks two Foot every Way. We arc told that
the Ancients did not use the same Sort of Brick
in their publick as in their private Edifices. I
have observed in several of their Structures, and
particularly in the Appian Way, several dif-
ferent Sorts of Bricks, some bigger, some small-
er; so that I suppose they used them indiffe-
rently, and put in Practice not only what was
absolutely necessary for Use, but any Thing
that came into their Fancy, or which they
thought would conduce to the Beauty of the
Work. But, not to mention others, I have
seen some not longer than six Inches, and not
thicker than one, nor broader than three; but
these they chiefly used in their Pavements,

where they were laid edgeways. I am best
pleased with their triangular ones, which they
made in this Manner; they made one large
Brick, a Foot Square, and an Inch and an
Half Thick; and while it was fresh they cut

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it in two Lines crossways from one Angle to
the other, which divided it into four equal
Triangles. These Bricks had the follow-
ing Advantages, they took up less Clay, they
were easier to dispose in the Kiln and to take
out again, they were more convenient for
working, because the Bricklayer could hold
four of them in one Hand, and with a smail
Stroke divide the one srorn the other; when
placed in the Wall, with their Fronts soremost
and their Angles inward, they appeared like
compleat Bricks of a Foot Long: This made
the Expence less, the Work more graceful, and
the Wall stronger; for as there seemed to be
none but entire Bricks in the Wall, the Angles
being set like Teeth in the Rubbish that was
laid in the Middle, made it extremely strong
and durable. After the Bricks are moulded,
they direct that they should not be put into the
Kiln till they are perfectly dry, and they say
they never are so under two Years; and they
are reckoned to dry better in the Shade than in
the Sun: But of these too enough, unless we
will add that in all this Sort of Works, which
are called Plastick, they reckon excellent,
among others, the Earth that is called Samian,
the Aretinian, and the Modeneze; in Spain,
the Saguntan; and the Pergamean in Asia.

Nor will I consult Brevity so much as to omit,
that whatever I have here said of Bricks, will
hold good of all Sorts of Tiles for Roofs of
Houses or Gutters, and in a Word, of all Man-
ner of Works made of baked Earth. We have
treated of Stone, let us now proceed to speak
of Lime.

  • CHAP. XI.

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Of the Nature of Lime and Plaister of Paris, their Uses and Kinds, wherein
they agree and wherein they differ, and of some Things not unworthy of
Memory.

Cato the Censor, condemns Lime made
of different Sorts of Stone, and takes that
which is made of Flint to be good for no Man-
ner of Work whatsoever; besides, in making
of Lime all Stone is extremely improper that
is dry and exhausted, or rotten, and which in
burning has nothing in it for the Fire to con-
sume, as all mouldering Stone, and the reddish
and pale ones, which are found near Rome in
the Country of the Fidenates and Albanians.

The Lime commended by the best Judges, is
that which loses a third Part of its Weight by
burning; besides, Stone that is too moist in its
Nature, is apt to vitrify in the Fire, so as to be
of no Use for making of Lime. Pliny says,
that the green, or Serpentine -stone mightily
resists the Fire; but we know very well that
the Porphiry will not only not burn itself, but

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will hinder the other Stones that are near it
in the Kiln, from burning too. They also
dislike all earthy Stone, because it makes the
Lime soul. But the ancient Architects greatly
praise the Lime made of very hard close Stone,
especially white, which they say is not im-
proper for any Sort of Work, and is extremely
strong in Arches. In the second Place, they
commend Lime made of Stone, not indeed
light or rotten, but spungy; which they think
for plaistering is better, and more tractable
than any other, and gives the best Varnish to
the Work; and I have observed the Architects
in France, to use no other Sort of Lime but
what was made of the common Stones they
found in Rivers or Torrents, blackish, and so
very hard, that you would take them for
Flints; and yet it is certain, both in Stone
and Brickwork, it has preserved an extraordi-
nary Strength to a very great Age. We read
in Pliny, that Lime made of the Stone of
which they make Mill-stones, is excellent for
all manner of Uses; but I find upon Experi-
ence, that such of them as seem spotted with
Drops of Salt, being too rough and dry, will
not do for this Use; but that which is not so
spotted, but is closer, and when it is ground,
makes a finer Dust, succeeds extremely well.
Flowever, let the Nature of the Stone be what
it will, that of the Quarry will be much bet-
ter for making of Lime, than that which we
pick up; and that dug out of a shady, moist
Quarry, better than out of a dry one; and
made of white Stone, more tractable than of
black. In France, near the Sea-shore about
Vannes, for Want of Stone, they make their
Lime of Oyster and Cockle-Shells. There is
moreover a kind of Lime which we call Plai-
ster of Paris, which too is made of burnt
Stone; tho’ we are told that in Cyprus, and

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about Thebes, this Sort of Plaister is dug out
of the Surface of the Earth, ready baked by
the Heat of the Sun. But the Stone that
makes the Plaister of Paris, is different from
that which makes the Lime; for it is very
soft, and will easily rub to Pieces, except one
found in Syria, which is very hard. It differs
likewise in this, that the Plaister of Paris
Stone requires but twenty Hours; and the
Lime Stone takes threescore Hours in burning.

I have observed, that in Italy there are four
Sorts of Plaister of Paris, two of which are
transparent, and two which are not: Of the
transparent, one is like Lumps of Allum, or
rather of Alabaster, and they called it the
Scaly Sort, because it consi s of extreme
thin Scales, one over the other, like the Coats
of an Onion. The other is scaly too, but is
more like a blackish Salt than Allum. The
Sorts that are not transparent are both like a
very close Sort of Chalk, but one is pale and
whitish, and the other with that Paleness has
a Tincture of red; which last is firmer and
closer than the first. Of the last, the reddest
is the most tenacious. Of the first, that which
is the clearest and whitest is used in Stuc Work
for Ligures and Cornishes.

NEAR Rimini they find a Plaister of Paris so
solid that you would take it for Marble or Ala-
baster, which I had had cut with a Saw into
large thin Pieces, extremely convenient for In-
crustations. That I may omit nothing that is
necessary, all Plaister of Paris must be broken
and pounded with wooden Mallets, till it is
reduced to Powder, and so kept in Heaps in
some very dry Place, and as soon as ever it is
brought out, it must be watered and used im-
mediately.

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BUT Lime on the Contrary need not be
pounded, but may be soak’ d in the Lumps,
and must be plentifully soak’ d with Water a
good while before you use it, especially if it is
for Plaistering; to the Intent that if there
should be any Lumps not enough burnt, it
may be dissolv’ d and liquify’ d by long lying
in the Water: Because, when it is used too
soon, before it is duly soak’ d, there will be some
small unconcocted Stones in it, which afterwards
coming to rot, throw out little Pustules, which
spoil the Neatness of the Work. Add here-
unto, that you need not give your Lime a
Flood, as I may call it, of Water at once, but
wet it by little and little, sprinkling it several
Times over, till it is in all Parts thoroughly
impregnated with it; afterwards it must be
kept in some shady Place, moderately moist,
clear from all Mixture, and only cover’ d over
with a little Sand, till by Length of Time it is
better fermented; and it has been found that
Lime by this thorough Fermentation acquires
inconceivable Virtue. I have known some
found in an old neglected Ditch, that, as
plainly appear’ d by the strongest Conjectures,
was left there above five hundred Years;
which when it was discover’ d was so moist and
liquid, and, to use the Expression, so mature,
that it far exceeded Floney or Marrow itself in
Softness; and nothing in Nature can be ima-
gin’ d more serviceable for all Manner of Uses.

It requires double the Sand if prepared thus,

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than if you mix it immediately. In this,
therefore, Lime and Plaister of Paris do not
agree; but in other Things they do. Carry
your Lime, therefore, immediately out of the
Kiln into a shady, dry Place, and water it; for
if you keep it either in the Kiln itself, or any
where else in the Air, or expos’ d to the Moon
or Sun, especially in Summer, it would soon
crumble to Powder, and be totally useless.

But of this sufficient. They advise us not to
put our Stone into the Kiln till we have bro-
ken it into Pieces, not smaller than the Clods;
for, not to mention that they will burn the
easier, it has been observed that in the middle
of some Stones, and especially of round ones,
there are sometimes certain Concavities, in
which the Air being inclosed often does a great
deal of Mischief: For when they come to
feel the Fire in the Kiln, this Air is either
compressed by the cold retiring inwards, or
else when the Stone grows hot it turns to Va-
pour, which makes it swell till it bursts the
Prison wherein it is confined, and breaks out
with a dreadful Noise and irresistible Force,
and blows up the whole Kiln. Some in the
middle of such Stones have seen living Crea-
tures, of various kinds, and particularly Worms
with a hairy Back, and a great Number of
Feet, which do a great deal of Flarm to the
Kiln. And I will here add some Things worthy
to be recorded, which have been seen in our
Days, since I do not write only for the Use of
Workmen, but also for all such as are studious
of curious Enquiries; for which Reason, I
shall not scruple, now and then, to intermix
any thing that is delightful, provided it is not
absolutely foreign to my Puipose.

THERE was brought to Pope Martin V. a
Serpent found by the Miners in a Quarry in

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la Romagna, which lived pent up in the Hol-
low of a great Stone, without the least Crack
or Hole in it for Admission of Air; in like
Manner Toads too have been found and Crabs,
but dead. I myself have been Witness to the
finding of the Leaves of Trees in the Middle
of a very white Piece of Marble. All the
Summit of Mount Vellino, one of those which
divide the Country of Abruzzo from Marsi,
and is higher than any of the rest, is covered
over with a white Stone, so that the very
Mountain looks white with it, among which,
especially on that Side, which looks towards
Abruzzo, are a great many broken Pieces with
Figures upon them, exactly like Sea-shells, not
bigger than the Palm of a Man’ s Hand. But,
what is more extraordinary, in the Veroneze,
they daily find Stones upon the Ground marked
with the Figure of the Cinquefoil, with every
Line and Vein drawn so exactly and regularly,
by the Hand of Nature, that the nicest Artist
cannot pretend to come up to it; and which
is most curious of all, every one of these Stones
are found with the Impression turned down-
wards, and hid by the Stone, as if Nature had
not been at the Pains of such fine Sculptures
to gain the Approbation of Men, but for her
own Diversion. But to return to our Subject.

I SHALL not spend Time here to shew how
to make the Mouth of the Kiln, and its Co-
vering, and the inward Seat of the Fire, and
how to give Vent to the Flame when it grows
hot, and to keep it, as it were, within its
own Confines, so as to direct the whole uni-
ted Strength and Power of the Fire to the
burning of the Lime. Nor will I proceed to
teach how the Fire is to be kindled by little
and little, and never left till the Flame burns
out at the Top of the Furnace perfectly clear,

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and without the least Smoke, and till the very
uppermost Stones are red hot; and that the
Stone is not burnt enough, till the Kiln,
which had been swelled and cracked by the
Fire, afterwards settles and closes itself again.

It is a surprizing Thing to observe the Nature
of this Element; for if you take away the Fire,
the Kiln will grow cooler and cooler by De-
grees at the Bottom, while it continues burn-
ing hot at Top. But as in Building, we have
Occasion not only for Lime, but Sand, we will
now say something about that.

CHAP. XII.

Of the three different Kinds of Sands, and of the various Materials in Build-
ing, in different Places.

There are three Sorts of Sand, Pit-
sand, River-sand, and Sea-sand; the
best of all these is the Pit-sand; and this is of
several Kinds; black, white, red, the car-
buncly, and the gritty. But if any should ask
what I take Sand to be, I might perhaps an-

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swer, that it is nothing but a Composition of
the smallest Stones, the large ones being all bro-
ken to Pieces; tho’ it is Vitruvius ‘ s Opinion,
that Sand, especially that which in Tusca y
they call the carbuncly Sort, is a Kind of
Earth burnt by the Fire inclosed by Nature
within the Hills, and made somewhat harder
than Earth unburnt, but softer than any Stone.

Of all these they most commend the carbuncly
Sort. I have observed, that in the publick
Buildings in Rome, they used the red as none
of the worst. Of all the Pit-sand the white is
the worst. The gritty is of Use in filling up
of Foundations; but among the best, they
give the second Place to the finest of the
gritty, and especially to the shaip angular Sort,
without the least Mixture of Earth in it, as is
that which they find in the Territory of the
Vilumbrians. Next to this they esteem the
River Sand, which is dug after the uppermost
Layer is taken off; and next to the River-
sand that of the Torrent, especially of such
Torrents as run between Hills, where the
Water has the greatest Descent. In the last
Place comes the Sea-sand, and of this Sort,
the blackest and most glazed is not wholly to
be despised. In the Country, near Salerno,
they esteem their Sea-sand not inferior to Pit-
sand, but they say it is not to be dug in all
Parts of the Shore alike; for they find it worst
of all where it is exposed to the South Wind;
but it is not bad in those Places which look to
the South-west. But of Sea-sands, it is certain
the best is that which lies under Rocks, and
which is of the coarsest Grain. There is a
great deal of Difference in Sands, for that of
the Sea is very slow in drying, and is continu-
ally moist and apt to dissolve, by Reason of its
Salt, and is therefore very improper and un-
faithful in supporting of great Weights. That

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of the River too is somewhat moister than the
Pit-sand, and therefore is more tractable and
better for Plaistering-work. The Pit-sand, by
means of its Fatness, is most tenacious, but is
apt to crack, for which Reason they use it in
Vault-work, but not in plaistering. But of
each Sort, that is always best, which being
rubbed with the Fland creeks the most, and
being laid upon a white Cloth, makes the
least Soil, and leaves the least Earth behind it.
On the contrary, that is the worst, which feels
mealy instead of sharp, and which in Smell and
Colour resembles red Earth, and being mixed
with Water makes it foul and muddy, and if
lest abroad in the Air, presently brings forth
Grass. Neither will that be good, which af-
ter it is dug, is left for any Time exposed to
the Sun, or Moon, or to Frosts; because it
turns it in a Manner to Earth, and makes it
very apt to rot; or when it is inclined to
bring sorth Shrubs, or wild Figs, it is ex-
tremly bad for cementing of Walls. We have
now treated of Timber, Stone, Lime, and
Sand, such as are approved of by the Anci-
ents; but in all Places these Things are not
to be found with all the Qualifications which
we require. Tally says, that Asia, by means
of its Abundance of Marble, always flourished
in fine Buildings and Statues; but Marble is
not to be got every where. In some Places
there is either no Stone at all, or what there is,
is good for no manner of Use. In all the
Southern Parts of Italy, they say there is no
Want of Sand-Pits, but on the other Side of
the Appenine there are none. Pliny says, the
Babylonians made Use of Slime, and the Car-
thaginians of Mud. In some Places, not ha-
ving any Sort of Stone, they build with
Flurdles and Potters Earth. Herodotus tells us,
that the Budini make all their Structures, as

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well publick as private, of nothing but Wood,
even to the Walls of their City, and the Sta-
tues of their Gods. Mela says, that the Nervi
have no Wood at all; and that for Want of it
they are obliged to make their Fires of Bones.

In A Egypt their Fuel is the Dung of their Cat-
tle. For this Reason, the Flabitations of Men
are different, according to the different Conve-
niencies of the Country. Among the A Egyp-
tians there are Royal Palaces built of Rushes;
and in India, of the Ribs of Whales. In Car-
rce, a Town in Arabia, they build with Lumps
of Salt: But of these elsewhere. So that as
we have already observed, there is not the same
Plenty of Stone, Sand, and the like, every
where, but in different Places there are diffe-
rent Accommodations and Conveniencies:
Therefore we are to make Use of such as of-
fer themselves; and out of those we should,
in the first Place, make it our Business, always
to select and provide the best and properest,
and, secondly, in building with them, we
should carefully allot to each its proper Place
and Situation.

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CHAP. XIII.

Whether the Observation of Times and Seasons is of any Use in beginning a
Building; what Season is most convenient; as also, with what Auguries or
Prayers we ought to set out upon our Work.

Having got ready the Materials before
spoken of. it remains now that we pro-
ceed to treat of the Work itself. For as to the
providing of Iron. Brass, Lead, Glass, and the
like, it requires no Care, but merely the Buy-
ing, and having them in Readiness, that your
Building may not stand still for them; tho’
we shall in due Time lay down some Instruc-
tions about the Choice and Distribution of
them, which is of Consequence to the com-
pleating and adorning the Work. And we
shall take and consider the Structure from the
Foundation, in the same Manner as if we were
actually about doing the Work ourselves. But
here I must again admonish you to consider
the Times, both with Relation to the Publick,
and to yourself and Family, whether they are
troublesome or peaceable, prosperous or cala-
mitous, lest we expose ourselve 5 to Envy, if we
go on with our Undertaking, or to Loss if we
give it over. We should also have a particu-
lar Regard to the Season of the Year; for we
see that Buildings begun and prosecuted
in Winter, especially in a cold Climate,
are taken with the Frost, or in Summer,
in a hot Climate, dry’ d up with the Heat before
ever they have fasten’ d. For this Reason it
was that Frontinus, the Architect, advis’ d us
never to undertake such a Work but in a pro-
per Season of the Year, which is from the Be-
ginning of April to the Beginning of Novem-
ber, resting, however, in the greatest Heat
of Summer. But I am for hastening or delay-
ing the Work just according to the Difference

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of the Climate and of the Weather; and there-
fore if you are prepar’ d with all the Things before
recited, and your Convenience suits, you have
nothing to do but to mark out the Area of
your Structure in the Ground, with all its
Lines, Angles and Dimensions. But there are
some who tell us that in Building we should
observe and wait for happy Auspices, and that
it is of the utmost Importance from what par-
ticular Point of Time the Structure is to date
its Being. They relate, that Lucius Tarutius
found out the exact Nativity of Rome, only
by the Observation of the Turns in its For-
tune. The wisest Men among the Ancients
had such an Opinion of the Consequence of
the Moment of the Beginning a Thing might
have as to its future Success, that Julius Fer-
micus Matumus tells us of some Mathematici-
ans that pretended to have discover’ d the very
instant when the World had its Beginning,
and that wrote very accurately about it: For
JEsculapius, and Anubius, and Petosiris, and
Necepso, who only wrote from them, say that
it begun just at the Rising of the Crab, when
the Moon was fourteen Days old, the Sun
being in Leo, Saturn in Capricorn, Jupiter in
Sagittary, Mars in Scorpio, Venus in Libra,
and Mercury in Virgo. And indeed, if we
rightly consider them, the Times may have a
great Influence in Things. For how is it else,
that in the shortest Day of the Year, the
Penny-royal, tho’ quite dry, sprouts and flou-
rishes; Bladders that are blown up burst; the
Leaves of Willows, and the Kernels of Apples
turn and change Sides; and that the small
Fibres of a Shell-fish correspond, increase and
decrease with the Increase and Decrease of
the Moon. I must confess, though I have
not so much Faith in the Professors of this
Science, and the Observers of Times and Sea-

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1

sons, as to believe their Art can influence the
Fortune of any Thing, yet I think they are not
to be despised when they argue for the Flappi-
ness or Adversity of such stated Times as these
from the Disposition of the Fieavens. But let
this be as it will, the following their Instructi-
ons may be of great Service, if true; and can
do little harm, if false. I might here add some
ridiculous Circumstances which the Ancients
observed in the Beginning of their Undertakings;
but I would not have them interpreted in a
wrong Sense; and indeed they deserve only to
be laughed at, who would perswade us that
the very Marking out of the Platform ought
to be done under proper Auspices. The An-
cients were so governed by these Superstitions,
that in making out the Lists of their Armies,

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they took great Care that the first Soldier had
not an unlucky Name; which was a Rule they
also observed in the Ceremony of purifying their
Soldiers and their Colonies, wherein, the Per-
son that was to lead the Beast to the Sacrifice
must have a fortunate Name. And the Cen-
sors, in framing out the publick Revenues and
Estates, always began with the Lake Lucrinus,
because of the Lucrativeness of its Name, So
likewise, being terrified with the dismal Name
of Epidamnus, that such as went thither might
not be said to be gone a damnable Voyage,
they changed its Name into Dyrraehium; so
likewise they served Beneventum, which before
was called Maleventum. Neither, on the other
Hand, can I forbear laughing at their Conceit,
that in beginning Undertakings of this Sort it
was good to repeat certain favourable Words
and Charms.

AND there are some that affirm, that Men’ s
Words are so powerful, that they are obey’ d
even by Beasts and Things inanimate. I omit
Cato ‘ s Lancy, that Oxen when fatigued may
be refresh’ d by certain Words. They tell us
too, that they used with certain Prayers and
Lorms of Words to entreat and beseech their
Mother Earth to give Nourishment to foreign
Trees, and such as she was not accustom’ d to
bear; and that the Trees also were to be
humbly pray’ d to suffer themselves to be re-
mov’ d, and to thrive in another Ground. And
since we are got into this foolish Strain of re-
cording the Pollies of other Men, I will also
mention, for Diversion Sake, what they tell us,
that the Words of Mankind are of such Effect,
that Turnips will grow incredibly, if when we
sow them we at the same Time pray them to
be gracious and lucky to us, our Pamilies, and
our Neighbourhood. But if these be so, I can’ t

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imagine why the Basilico-root should, as they
say, grow the faster for being curst and abused
when it is sown. But let us leave this idle Sub-
ject. It is undoubtedly proper, omitting all
these uncertain Superstitions, to set about our
Work with a holy and religious Preparation.

Ah Jove principium, Musce;

Jovis omnia plena.

We ought therefore to begin our Undertaking
with a clean Heart, and with devout Oblati-
ons, and with Prayers to Almighty God to
implore his Assistance, and Blessing upon the
Beginnings of our Labours, that it may have
a happy and prosperous Ending, with Strength
and Happiness to it and its Inhabitants, with
Content of Mind, Encrease of Fortune, Success
of Industry, Acquisition of Glory, and a Suc-
cession and Continuance of all good Things.

So much for our Preparation.

The End of Book II.

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THE

ARCHITECTURE

OF

Leone Batista Alberti.

BOOK III. CHAP. I.

Of the Work. Wherein lies the Business of the Work; the different Parts of
the Wall, and what they require. That the Foundation is no Part of the
Wall; what Soil makes the best Foundation.

The whole Business of the working
Part of Building is this; by a re-
gular and artful Conjunction of
different Things, whether square
Stone, or uneven Scantlings, or
Timber, or any other strong Material, to form
them as well as possible into a solid, regular,
and consistent Structure. We call it regular
and consistent when the Parts are not incon-
gruous and disjointed, but are disposed in their
proper Places, and are answerable one to the
other, and conformable to a right Ordinance of
Lines. We are therefore to consider what are
the principal essential Parts in the Wall, and
what are only the Lines and Disposition of
those Parts. Nor are the Parts of the Wall
any Thing difficult to find out; for the Top,
the Bottom, the right Side, the Left, the re-
mote Parts, the Near, the Middle are obvious
of themselves; but the particular’ Nature of
each of these, and wherein they differ, is not
so easily known. For the raising a Building is
not, as the Ignorant imagine, merely laying
Stone upon Stone, or Brick upon Brick; but
as there is a great Diversity of Parts, so there
requires a great Diversity of Materials and Con-
trivance. For one Thing is proper in the
Foundation, another in the naked Wall and in
the Cornish, another for the Coins, and for the

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Lips of the Apertures, one for the outward
Face of the Wall, another for the cramming
and filling up the middle Parts: Our Business
here is to shew what is requisite in each of
these. In doing this, therefore, we shall begin
at the Foundation, imitating, as we said before,
those that are actually going to raise the Struc-
ture. The Foundation, if I mistake not, is
not properly a Part of the Wall, but the Place
and Seat on which the Wall is reared. For
if we can find a Seat perfectly firm and solid,
consisting perhaps of nothing but Stone, what
Foundation are we obliged to make? None,

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certainly, but to begin immediately from
thence to erect our Wall. At Siena there are
huge Towers raised immediately from the na-
ked Earth, because the Hill is lined with a
solid Rock. Making a Foundation, that is
to say, digging up the Ground, and making a
Trench, is necessary in those Places, where
you cannot find firm Ground without digging;
which, indeed, is the Case almost every where,
as will appear hereafter. The Marks of a good
Soil for a Foundation are these; if it does not
produce any kind of Herb that usually grows
in moist Places; if it bears either no Tree at
all, or only such as delight in a very hard,
close Earth; if every Thing round about is
extremely dry, and, as it were, quite parched
up; if the Place is stony, not with small round
Pebbles, but large sharp Stones, and especially
Flints; if there are no Springs nor Veins of
Water running under it; because the Nature
of all Streams is either to be perpetually car-
rying away, or bringing something along with
them: And therefore it is that in all flat
Grounds, lying near any River, you can never
meet with any firm Soil, till you dig below
the Fevel of the Channel. Before you begin
to dig your Foundations, you should once
again carefully review and consider all the
Fines and Angles of your Platform, what Di-
mensions they are to be of, and how they are
to disposed. In making these Angles we must
use a square Rule, not of a small but of a
very large Size, that our strait Fines may be
the truer. The Ancients made their square
Rule of three strait ones joined together in a
Triangle, whereof one was of three Cubits,
the other of four, and the third of five. The
Ignorant do not know how to make these
Angles till they have first cleared away every
Thing that incumbers the Area, and have it

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all persectly open, almost level before them:

For which Reason, laying furiously hold of
their Tools, they fall like so many Ravagers
to demolishing and levelling every Thing be-
fore them; which would become them much
better in the Country of an Enemy. But the
Error of these Men ought to be corrected;
for a Change of Fortune, or the Adversity of
the Times, or some unforeseen Accident, or
Necessity, may possibly oblige you to lay aside
the Thoughts of the Undertaking you have
begun. And it is certainly very unseemly, in
the mean while, to have no Regard to the
Labours of your Ancestors, or to the Conve-
niencies which your Fellow-Citizens find in
these paternal habitations, which they have
been long accustomed to; and as for pulling
down and demolishing, that is in your Power
at any Time. I am therefore for preserving
the old Structures untouched, till such Time
as it is absolutely necessary to remove them
to make Way for the new.

CHAP. II.

That the Foundation chiefly is to be marked out with Lines; and by what
Tokens we may know the Goodness of the Ground.

In marking out your Foundations, you are
to remember, that the sirst Ground-work
of your Wall, and the Soccles, which are
called Foundations too, must be a determinate
Proportion broader than the Wall that is to be
erected upon it; in Imitation of those who
walk over the Snow in the Alps of Tuscany,
who wear upon their Feet Hurdles made of
Twigs and small Ropes, plaited together for
that very Puipose, the Broadness of which
keeps them from sinking in the Snow. How
to dispose the Angles, is not easy to teach

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1

clearly with Words alone; because the Method
of drawing them, is borrowed srom the Ma-
thematicks, and stands in Need of the Ex-
ample of Lines, a Thing soreign to our Design
here, and which we have treated of in another
Place, in our Mathematical Commentaries.
However, I will endeavour, as far as is neces-
sary here, to speak of them in such a Manner,
that if you have any Share of Ingenuity, you
may easily comprehend many Things, by
Means of which you may afterwards make
yourself Master of all the rest. Whatever may
chance to seem more obscure, if you have a
Mind to understand it thoroughly, you may
apply to those Commentaries. My Method,
then, in describing the Foundations, is to draw

some Lines, which I call radical ones,
in this Manner*. From the Middle
of the Fore-front of the Work, I draw a Line
quite thro’ to the Back-front, in the Middle

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1

of this Line I six a Nail in the Ground, from
which I raise, and let fall Perpendiculars, ac-
cording to the Method of the Geometers; and
to these two Lines I reduce every Thing
that I have Occasion to measure; which suc-
ceeds persectly well in all Respects; for the
Fat al lei Lines are obvious; you see exactly
where to make your Angles correspondent,
and to dispose every Paid consistently, and
agreeably, with the others. But if it so hap-
pens, that any old Buildings obstruct your
Sight from discovering and fixing upon the
exact Seat of every Angle; your Business
then is to draw Lines, at equal Distances, in
those Places which are clear and free; then
having marked the Point of Intersection, by
the Assistance of the Diameter and Gnomon,
and by drawing other Lines at equal Distances,
fitted to the Square, we may compleatly effect
our Purpose: And it will be of no small Con-
venience to terminate the Ray of Sight with a
Line in those Places which lie higher than the
rest; whence letting fall a Perpendicular, we
may find the right Direction and Production of
our Lines. Having marked out the Lines
and Angles of our Trenches, we ought to
have, if possible, as sharp and clear a Sight as
a certain Spaniard in our Days was fabulously
said to have, who they tell us, could see the
lowest Veins of Water that run under Ground,
as plainly as if they were above Ground. So
the many Things happen under the Surface of
Earth, which we know nothing of, as makes it
unsafe to trust the Weight and Expence of a
Building to it. And, certainly, as in all the
rest of the Structure, so especially in the Foun-
dations, we ought to neglect no Precaution
which it becomes an accurate and diligent
Architect to take; for an Error in any other
Part does less Mischief, and is more easily re-

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1

medied, or better borne, than in the Founda-
tion; in which, a Mistake is inexcusable. But
the Ancients used to say, dig on, and good
Fortune attend you, till you find a solid Bot-
tom; for the Earth has several Strata, and
those of different Natures; some sandy, others
gravelly, some stony, and the like; under
which, at certain Depths, is a hard, firm
Bank, fit to support the heaviest Structure.

This also is various, and hardly like any thing of
its own kind in any Particular; in some Places
it is excessively hard, and scarce penetrable with
Iron; in others, fatter and softer; in some
Places blacker, in others whiter; which last
is reckoned the weakest of all; in some Places
chalky, in others, stony; in others, a Kind
of Potters Clay mixed with Gravel; of all
which, no other certain Judgment can be
made, but that the best is reckoned to be that
which is hardest to the Pick-axe, and which
when wetted does not dissolve. And for this
Reason, none is thought firmer and stronger,
or more durable, than that which serves as a
Bottom to any Springs of Water in the Bowels
of the Earth. But it is my Opinion, that the
best Way is to take Counsel with disereet and
experienced Men of the Country, and with
the neighbouring Architects; who, both from
the Example of old Structures, and from their
daily Practice in actual Building, must be the
best Judges of the Nature of the Soil, and
what Weight it is able to bear. There are
also Methods of proving the Firmness of the
Soil. If you roll any great Weight along the
Ground, or let it fall down from any Fleighth,
and it does not make the Fai th shake, nor
stir the Water set there on Puipose in a Bason;
you may safely promise yourself a good, sound
Foundation in that Place. But in some Coun-
tries there is no solid Bottom to be found any

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1

where; as near the Adriatic, and about Ve-
nice, where, generally, there is nothing to be
met with but a loose, soft Mud.

  • Plate 4.

(facing
page 44)

CHAP. III.

That the Nature of Places is various, and therefore we ought not to trust any
Place too hastily, till we have first dug Wells, or Reservoirs; but that in
marshy Places, we must make our Foundation with Piles burnt at the Ends,
and driven in with their Pleads downward with light Beetles, and many
repeated Blows, till they are driven quite into the Head.

You must therefore use different Me-
thods for your Foundations, according
to the Diversity of Places, whereof some are
lofty, some low, others between both, as the
Sides of Hills: Some again are parcht and
dry, as generally the Summits and Ridges of

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1

Mountains; others damp and washy, as are
those which lie near Seas or Lakes, or in Bot-
toms between Hills. Others are so situated as
to be neither always dry nor always wet, which
is the Nature of easy Ascents, where the
Water does not lie and soak, but runs gently
off. We must never trust too hastily to any
Ground, tho’ it does resist the Pick-axe, for
it may be in a Plain, and be infirm, the Con-
sequence of which might be the Ruin of the
whole Work. I have seen a Tower at Mestri,
a Place belonging to the Venetians , which in
a few Years after it was built, made its Way
thro’ the Ground it stood upon, which, as
the Fact evinced, was a loose weak Soil, and
bury’ d itself in Earth, up to the very Battle-
ments. For this Reason they are very much
to be blamed, who not being provided by Na-
ture with a Soil fit to support the Weight of
an Edifice, and Lightning upon the Ruins or
Remains of some old Structure, do not take
the Pains to examine the Goodness of its Foun-
dation, but inconsiderately raise great Piles of
Building upon it, and out of the Avarice of
saving a little Expence, throw away all the
Money they lay out in the Work. It is there-
fore excellent Advice, the first Thing you do
to dig Wells, for several Reasons, and especi-
ally in order to get acquainted with the Strata
of the Earth, whether sound enough to bear
the Superstructure, or likely to give way. Add,
likewise, that the Water you find in them, and
the Stuff you dig out, will be of great Service
to you in several Parts of your Work; and
moreover, that the Opening such Vents will be
a great Security to the Firmness of the Build-
ing, and prevent its being injured by subter-
raneous Exhalations. Having therefore, either
by digging a Well, or a Cistern, or a Shoar, or
any other Hole of that Nature, made yourself

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1

thoroughly acquainted with the Veins or
Layers of the Earth, you are to make Choice
of that which you may most safely trust with
your Superstructure. In Eminences, or where-
ever else the Water is running down washes
away the Ground, the deeper you make your
Trench, the better. And that the Hills are
actually eaten and wash’ d away, and wasted
more and more daily by continual Rains, is
evident srorn the Caverns and Rocks which
every Day grow more visible, whereas at first
they were so cover’ d with Earth that we could
hardly perceive them. Mount Morello, which
is about Florence, in the Days of our Fathers
was all over cover’ d with Firs; and now it is
quite wild and naked; occasion’ d, as I sup-
pose, by the Washing of the Rain In Situ-
ations upon Slopes, Columella directs us to be-
gin our Foundations at the lowest Paid of the
Slope first; which is certainly very right, for
besides that whatever you lay there will always
stand firm and unmoveable in its Place, it will
also serve as a Prop or Buttress, to whatever
you add to the upper Parts, if you aftewards
think fit to enlarge your Structure. You will
also thereby discover and provide against those
Defects which sometimes happen in such Tren-
ches by the cracking or falling in of the Earth. In
marshy Grounds, you should make your Trench
very wide, and fortify both Sides of it with
Stakes, Hurdles, Planks, Sea-weeds, and Clay,
so strongly that no Water may get in; then
you must draw off every drop of Water that
happens to be left within your Frame-work,
and dig out the Sand, and clear away the Mud
from the Bottom till you have firm dry Ground
to set your Foot upon. The same you are to
do in sandy Ground, as far as Necessity requires.
Moreover, the Bottom of the Trench
must be laid exactly level, not sloping on

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1

either Side, that the Materials laid upon it may
be equally balanced. There is a natural in-
stinct in all heavy Bodies to lean and press
upon the lowest Parts. There are other
Things which they direct us to do in marshy
Situations, but they belong rather to the Wal-
ling than to the Foundations. They order us to
drive into the Ground a great Number of
Stakes and Piles burnt at the End, and set
with their Pleads downwards, so as to have
a Surface of twice the Breadth that we intend
for our Wall; that these Piles should never be
less in length than the eighth Part of the
Fleighth of the Wall to be built upon them,
and for their Thickness, it should be the
twelsth Part of their Length, and no less. Lastly
they should be drove in so close that their is
not room for one more. The Instrument we
use for driving in these Piles, whatever Sort it
it is of, should do its Business by a great many
repeated Strokes; for when it is too heavy,
coming down with an immense and intolerable
Lorce, it breaks and splits the Timber; but the
continual Repetition of gentle Strokes wearies
and overcomes the greatest Hardness and Obsti-
nacy of the Ground. You have an Instance of this
when you go to drive a small Nail into a hard
Piece of Timber; if you use a great heavy
Hammer, it won’ t do; but if you work with
a manageable light one, it penetrates imrne-

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PLATE 4. (Pages 42-43)

Leoni delin.

“Facciata di Dietro” = back-front [rear facade], ” Facciata d’ Inanzi” = fore -front.
“Linea Prima” – first line. “Linea Seconda” = second line. “Chiodo” = nail.

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1

PLATE 5. (A: Page 45; B: Page 47)

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1

What has been said may suffice, with relation
to our Trench, unless we would add, that
sometimes, either to save Money, or to avoid
an intermediate Piece of rotten Ground, it may
not be amiss to make a Foundation not con-
tinued entire all the way, but with Intervals
left between, as if we were only making

Columns or Pilasters, then turning Arches

from one Pilaster to the other, to
lay over them the rest of the Wall
In these we are to observe the same
Directions as we gave before; but the greater
Weight you are to raise upon them, the large,
and stronger Pilasters and Bases you must
make. But of these enough.

  • A. Plate 5.

(facing page 45 )

CHAP. IV.

Of the Nature, Forms and Qualities of Stones, and of the Tempering of
Mortar.

We now come to begin our Wall; but
as the Workman’ s Art and Manner
of Building depends partly upon the Nature.

Form and Quality of his Stone, and partly
upon the Tempering of his Mortar, we are
therefore first to treat briefly of these. Of
Stones, some are living, juicy, and strong, such
as Flint, Marble, and the like, which by Na-
ture are heavy and sonorous; others are ex-
hausted, light, and dead sounding, as are all
Stones that are soft and sandy. Again, some
have even Superficies, strait Lines, and equal

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1

Angles, which are call’ d Squared Stones;
others have uneven Superficies, of various
Lines, and unequal Angles, which we call
Rough. Of Stones also, some are big and
unweildy, so that a Man’ s Hand cannot
manage them at Pleasure, without the Assistance
of Sleds, Leavers, Rowlers, Pullies, or the
like Engines; others small, so as you may
raise and manage them with one single Hand
just as you please. The third Sort is between
both, of a moderate Size and Weight, which
are call’ d sizeable. All Stone should be En-
tire, not Muddy, and well wash’ d; you may
know whether it is Entire or Crack’ d, by the
Sound it gives when you Strike upon it. You
can wash them no where better than in a
River; and it is certain that the Middling
sizeable Sort are not soak’ d enough under nine
Days, and the large ones under more. That
which is fresh dug out of the Quarry is better
than that which has been long kept; and that
which has been once cemented with Mortar
will not cement well again a second Time.

So much may suffice as to Stone. As for
Lime, they condemn that which when it
comes from the Kiln is not in entire Lumps,
but in broken Pieces, and as it were in Pow-
der, and they say it will never prove service-
able. They commend that which purges and
grows white in the Fire, and which is light
and sonorous, and when you water it, bursts,
and throws out a strong thick Smoke high into
the Air. The former, being weak, must of
Course require less Sand; but this latter, being
strong, requires more. Cato directs, that to
every two Foot of Work, we should allow one
Bushel of Lime and two of Sand: Others
prescribe different Proportions. Vitruvius and
Pliny are for mixing the Sand thus; namely
to give to each Bushel of Lime three of Pit —

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1

sand, or two of River or Sea-sand. Lastly,
when the Quality and Nature of your Stone
requires your Mortal – to be more liquid or
tractable (which we shall speak of more clearly
below) your Sand must be sifted through a
Sieve; but when it is to be stiffer, then mix it
with half Gravel and broken Fragments of
Stone. All agree, that if you mix it with
one third of broken Tile or Brick pounded, it
will be much more tenacious. Flowever, mix
it as you will, you must stir it about often, till
the smallest Pieces are incorparated; and some,
for this Purpose, and that it may be well
mingled together, stir it about and beat it a
great while in a Mortar. But we shall say
no more here of the Cement, only thus much,
that Lime takes better hold with Stone of its
own Kind, and especially out of the same
Quarry, than with a Stranger.

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CHAP. V.

Of the lower Courses or Foundations, according to the Precepts and Example
of the Ancien ts.

For making the lower Courses, that is to
say, raising the Foundations up to the
Level of the Ground, I do not find any Precepts
among the Ancients, except this one, that all
Stones which, after being in the Air two Years,
discover any Defect, must be banish’ d into the
Foundation. For as in an Army, the sluggish
and weak who cannot endure the Sun and
Dust, are sent home with Marks of Infamy,
so these soft enervated Stones ought to be re-
jected, and left to an inglorious Repose in their
primitive Obscurity. Indeed I find by Historians,
that the Ancients took as much Care of the
Strength and Soundness of their Foundation in
all its Parts as of any other Part of the Wall.

Asithis, the Son of Nicerinus, King of A Egypt ,

(the Author of the Law, that whoever was
sued for Debt should give the Corpse of his
Father in Pawn) when he built a Pyramid of
Bricks to make his Foundations, drove Piles
into the Marsh, and laid his Bricks upon them.

And we are inform’ d that Ctesipho, the excel-
lent Architect that built the famous Temple
of Diana at Ephesus, having made Choice of
a level Piece of Ground, thoroughly drain’ d,
and likely to be free from Earthquakes; that
he might not lay the Foundations of such a
huge Pile in so loose and unfaithful a Soil
without due Precautions, first made a Bottom
of Coals pounded to Dust; then drove in Piles
with Fleeces and Coals wedged in between
Pile and Pile; and over these a Course of
Stone with very long Junctures.

WE find that about Jerusalem, in the

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Foundations of their Publick Works, they
sometimes used Stones thirty Feet long, and
not less than fifteen high. But I have ob-
served, that in other Places, the Ancients,
who were wonderfully expert in managing of
great Works, followed different Rules and
Methods in filling up the Foundations. In
the Sepulchre of the Antonini they filled them
up with little Pieces of very hard Stone, each
not bigger than a Flandful, and which they
perfectly drowned in Mortar. In the Forum
Argentarium, with Fragments of all Sorts of
broken Stones; in the Comitia, with Bits of
the very worst Sort of soft Stuff. But I am
mightily pleased with those who in the Tarpeia
imitated Nature, in a Contrivance particularly
well adapted to Fhlls; for as she, in the For-
mation of Mountains, mixes the softest Mate-
rials with the hardest Stone, so these Work-
men sirst laid a Course of squared Stone, as
strong as they could get, to the Fleighth of
two Feet; over these they made a Kind of
Plaister of Mortar, and broken Fragments,
then another Course of Stone, and with another
of Plaister they finished their Foundation. I
have known other Instances, where the An-
cients have made much the same Sort of Foun-
dations and Structures too, of coarse Pit-gra-
vel, and common Stone that they have picked
up by chance, which have lasted many Ages.
Upon pulling down a very high and strong
Tower at Bologna, they discovered that the
Foundations were filled with nothing but
round Stones and Chalk, to the Fleighth of
nine Feet; the other Parts were built with
Mortar. We find therefore that very different
Methods have been used, and which to ap-
prove most I confess myself at a Loss, all of
them have so long endured firm and sound.

So that I think we ought to chuse that which

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is least expensive, provided we do not throw
in all manner of old Rubbish, and any thing
apt to moulder. There are also other Sorts
of Foundations; one belongs to Porticoes,
and all other Places where Rows of Columns
are to be set; the other to Maritime Places,
where we cannot pick and chuse the Good-
ness of our Bottom as we could wish. Of
the Maritime we will consider when we come
to treat of making of Ports, and running Moles
out into the Sea; because these do not relate
to the general Work of all manner of Build-
ings, which is the Subject of our Discourse here,
but only to one particular Paid of the City,
which we shall treat of together with other
Things of the like Nature, when we give an
Account of all Publick Works, Member by
Member. In laying Foundations under Rows
of Columns, there is no Occasion to draw an
even continued Line of Work all the Way

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without Interruption; but only first to
strengthen the Places you intend for the Seats
or Beds of your Columns, and then from one
to the other draw Arches with their Backs
downwards, so that the Plane or Level of the
Area will be the Chord of those Arches; as

you may see by the Plate of the Page 41. let
B. For standing thus, they will be less apt to
force their Way into the Fai th in any one
Place, the Weight being counterpos’ d and
thrown equally on both Sides on the Props of
the Arches. And how apt Columns are to
drive into the Ground, by means of the great
Pressure of the Weight laid upon them, is
manifest from that Corner of the noble Tem-
ple of Vespasian that stands to the North-
West. For being desirous to leave the publick
Way, which was interrupted by that Angle, a
free and open Passage underneath, they broke
the Area of their Platform and turn’ d an Arch
against the Wall, leaving that Corner as a Sort
of Plaister on the other Side of the Passage,
and fortifying it, as well as possible, with stout
Work, and with the Assistance of a Buttress.

Yet this at last, by the vast Weight of so great
a Building, and the giving Way of the Earth,
became ruinous. But let this suffice upon this
Head.

  • CHAP. VI.

That there ought to be Vents left open in thick Wails from the Bottom to the
Top; the Difference between the Wall and the Foundation; the principal
Parts of the Wall; the three Methods of Walling; the Materials and
Form of the first Course or Layer.

The Foundations being laid, we come

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next to the Wall. But I will not omit
here a Precaution which belongs as well to the
Compleating of the Foundation as to the
Structure of the Wall. In large Buildings,
where the Wall is to be very thick, we ought
to leave Vents and Tunnels in the Body of the
Wall, at moderate Distances one from the other,
from the Foundation quite to the Top, through
which any Vapour or Damp that may happen
to engender or gather under Ground may have
free Passage without damaging the Work. The
Ancients in some of these Vents were used to
make winding Stairs, as well for the Sake of the
Beauty of the Contrivance itself, as for the
Convenience of passing up to the Top of the
Edifice, and perhaps too for the Saving of some
Expence. But to return to our Subject; be-
tween the Foundation and the naked Wall there
is this Difference, that the former having the
Support of the Sides of the Trench, may be made
of nothing but Rubbish, whereas the Latter con-
sists of Variety of Parts, as we shall hereafter
shew. The principal Parts of the Wall are
these; first, the bottom Part, which begins
immediately from the Level of the Foundati-
ons; this we call the first Course laid upon the
Level, or the Course rising from the Ground:

The middle Parts, which girt and surround
the Wall, we shall call the second Course: The
highest Parts, lastly, that is to say, those which
support the top Roof, we call Cornices. Some
of the principal Parts or rather the prin-
cipal Parts of all are the Corners of the
Wall, and the Pilasters, or Columns, or any
thing else in their stead set in the Wall to sup-
port the Beams and Arches of the Covering;
all which are comprized under the Name of
Bones or Ribs. Likewise the Jambs on each
Side of all Openings partake of the Nature both
of Corners and of Columns. Moreover, the

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Coverings of Openings, that is to say, the Lin-
tels or Transoms, whether strait or arched, are
also reckoned among the Bones. And indeed
I take an Arch to be nothing more than a Beam
bent, and the Beam or Transom to be only a
Column laid crossways. Those Parts which
interfere or lie between these principal Parts,
are very properly called Fillers up. There are
some Things throughout the whole Wall
which agree each with some one of the Parts
we have here spoken of; that is to say, the fill-
ing up or cramming of the Middle of the Wall,
and the two Barks or Shells of each Side,
whereof that without is to bear the Sun and
Weather, and that within is to give Shade and
Shelter to the Inside of the Platform. The
Rules for these Shells and for their stuffing are
various, according to the Variety of Structures.
The different Sorts of Structures are these; the
ordinary Sort, the chequer Sort and the Irregu-
lar: And here it may not be amiss to take

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Notice of what Varro says, that the Tuscans
used to build their Country Houses of Stone,
but the Gauls of baked Brick, the Sabines of
Brick unbaked, the Spaniards of Mud and lit-
tle Stones mixed together. But of these we
shall speak elsewhere. The ordinary Sort of
Structure, is that in which squared Stones,
either the middling or rather the large Sort, are
placed with their Fronts exactly answering to
the square level and plumb Line; which is the
strongest and most lasting Way of all. The
chequered Way is when squared Stones, either
the middle sized, or rather very small ones, are
placed not on their Sides, but on their Corners,
and lie with their Fronts answering to the
square and plumb Line. The irregular Way
is where ordinary rough Stones are placed with
their Sides answering, as well as the Inequality
of their Forms will permit, one to the other;
and this is the Method used in the Pavement
of the publick Ways. But these Methods must
be used differently in different Places; for in
the Bases, or first Course above the Ground, we
must make our Shell of nothing but very large
and very hard square Stones; for as we ought
to make the whole Wall as firm and entire as
possible, so there is no Part of it that requires
more Strength and Soundness than this; inso-
much that if it were possible for you to make
it all of one single Stone you should do it, or
at least make it only of such a Number as may
come as near as may be to the Firmness and
Durableness of one single Stone. How these
great Stones are to be mov’ d and manag’ d,
belonging properly to the Article of Ornaments,
we shall consider of it in another Place.

RAISE your Wall says Cato, of hard Stone
and good Mortar to at least a Foot high above
the Ground, and it matters not if you build

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the rest even of Brick unbak’ d. His Reason
for this Admonition is plainly because the Rain-
Water falling from the Roof might not rot
this Part of the Wall. But when we examine
the Works of the Ancients, and find that not
only in our own Country the lower Parts of
all good Buildings are compos’ d of the hardest
Stone, but that even among those Nations
which are under no Apprehensions from Rain,
as in ASgypt, they used to make the Bases of
their Pyramids of a black Stone of an extreme
Hardness; we are obliged to look more nearly
into this Matter. We should therefore con-
sider that as Iron, Brass, and the like hard
Metals, if bent several Times first this way
and then that, will at last crack and break; so
other Bodies, if wearied with a repeated Change
of Injuries, will spoil and corruptinconceivably;
which is what I have observed in Bridges,
especially of Wood: Those Parts of them
which stand all the Changes of Weather, some-
times burnt with the Rays of the Sun, and
shaip Blasts of Wind, at other Times soak’ d
with Night-dews or Rains, very soon decay
and are quite eaten away by the Worms. The
same holds good of those Parts of the Wall
which are near to the Ground, which by theal-
ternate injuries of Dust and Wet are very apt to
moulder and rot. I therefore lay it down as an
indispensible Rule, that all the first Course of
Work from the Level, should be compos’ d of
the hardest, soundest, and largest Stones, to
secure it against the frequent Assaults of con-
trary Injuries: Which Stone is hardest and best,
we have shewn sufficiently in the Second Book.

CHAP. VII.

Of the Generation of Stones; how they are to be dispos’ d and join’ d together, as
also, which are the Strongest and which the Weakest.

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1

It is certainly of very great Consequence in
what Manner we dispose and join our
Stone in the Work, either in this or any other
Part; for as in Wood so also in Stone, there
are Veins and Knots, and other Parts, of
which some are weaker than others, insomuch
that Marble itself will warp and split. There
is in Stones a Kind of Impostumes, or Collections
of putrid Matter, which in Time swell and
grow, by means, as I suppose of the Humidity
of the Air, which they suck in and imbibe
which breeds larger Pustules, and eats away
the Building. For besides what we have
already said of Stones in their proper Place, it
is necessary to consider here that they are
created by Nature, lying flat as we see them
in the Ground, of a liquid and fluxible Sub-
stance, which, as we are told, when it is af-
terwards harden’ d and grown, reserves in the
Mass the original Figure of its Parts. Hence

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it proceeds, that the lower Part of Stones is of
a more solid and weighty Consistence than the
Upper, and that they interrupted with Veins,
just according as their Substances happened to
unite and conglutinate. That Matter which is
found within the Veins, whether it be the Scum
of the first congealed Substance mix’ d with the
Dregs of the adventitious Matter, or whatever
else it be, as it is plainly of so different a Con-
sistence, that Nature will not permit it to
unite with the rest, it is no Wonder that it is
the Part in Stone which is apt to crack. And
indeed, as Experience teaches us, the Deva-
stations of Time too evidently demonstrate,
without searching into Causes more remote,
that all vegetative and compound Bodies con-
sume and decay; so in Stones, the Parts ex-
pos’ d to the Weather are soonest rotted. This
being the Case, we are advised in Placing our
Stone to set those Parts of it which are the
strongest, and least apt to putrify, against the
Violence of the alternate Injuries of the Wea-
ther, especially in those Parts of the Building
where most Strength is requir’ d. For this Rea-
son we should not set the Veins upright, lest
the Weather should make the Stone crack and
scale off; but they should be laid flat down-
wards that the Pressure of the incumbant
Weight may hinder them from opening. The
Side which in the Quarry lay most hid, should
be placed against the Air; because it is always
the strongest and most unctious. But of all
Stone, none will prove so hardy as that which
has its Veins not running in parellel Lines with
those of the Quarry, but crossway and directly
Pans verse. Moreover the Corners throughout
the whole Building, as they require the
greatest Degree of Strength, ought to be par-
ticularly well fortify’ d; and, if I mistake not,
each Corner is in effect the half of the whole

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Structure; for if one of them happens to fail,
it occasions the Ruin of both the Sides to
which it answers. And if you will take the
Pains to examine, I dare say you will find that
hardly any Building ever begins to decay, but
by the Fault of one of its Corners. It there-
fore shew’ d great Discretion in the Ancients,
to make their Corners much thicker than the
rest of the Wall, and in Porticoes of Columns
to strengthen their Angles in a particular Man-
ner. This Strength in the Corners is not re-
quired upon Account of its Supporting the
Covering (for that is rather the Business of the
Columns) but only to keep the Wall up to its
Duty, and hinder it from leaning any Way
from its perpendicular. Let the Corners there-
fore be of the hardest and longest Stones,
which may embrace both Sides of the Wall, as
it were, like Arms; and let them be full as
broad as the Wall, that there may be no need
to stuff the Middle with Rubbish. It is also
necessary, that the Ribs in the Wall and the
Jambs or Sides of the Apertures, should be
fortify’ d like the Corners, and made strong in
proportion to the Weight they are design’ d to
support. And above all we should leave Bits,
that is to say, Stones left every other Row jut-
ting out at the Ends of the Wall, like Teeth,
for the Stones of the other Front of the Wall
to fasten and catch into.

CHAP. VIII.

Of the Parts of the Finishing; of the Shells, the Stuffing, and their differen t
Sorts.

The Parts of the Finishing are those
which, as we said before, are common
to the whole Wall; that is, the Shell and the
Stuffing; but there are two Shells, one out-

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ward and the other inward; if you make the
outward of the hardest Stone you can get, the
Building will be the more durable. And indeed
in all Sorts of Finishing, let it be of what
Kind of Work you will, either chequer’ d, or
of rough Stones, it is indifferent, provided you
set against the continual mischievous Violence
either of Sun, or Wind, or of Fire, or Frost,
such Stones as are in their Nature best fitted
for resisting either Force, Weight, or Injuries;
and we should take Care to let our Materials be
particularly Sound where-ever the Rain in its
Fall from the Roof or Gutters is driven by the
Wind against the Wall; since we often find in
old Buildings, that such Sprinklings will rot
and eat into Marble itself. Though all prudent
Architects, to provide against this Mischief,
have taken Care to bring all the Water on the
Roof together into Gutters and Pipes, and so
carry it clear away. Moreover, the Ancients

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observ’ d that in Autumn the Leaves of Trees
always began to fall to the South-side sirst;
and in Buildings ruinated by Time, I have
taken Notice that they always began to decay
first towards the South. The Reason of this
may perhaps be that the Heat and Force of the
Sun lying upon the Work while it was still
in Hand might exhaust the Strength of the
Cement; and the Stone itself being frequently
moisten’ d by the South-wind, and then again
dry’ d and burnt by the Rays of the Sun,
rots and moulders. Against these and the like
Injuries therefore, we should oppose our best
and stoutest Materials. What I think too is
principally to be observ’ d, is to let every Row
or Course of Stone throughout the Wall be
even and equally proportion’ d, not patch’ d up
of great Stones on the right Hand and little
ones on the left; because we are told that the
Wall by the Addition of any new Weight is
squeezed closer together, and the Mortal – in
drying is hinder’ d by this Pressure from taking
due hold, which must of Course make Cracks
and Defects in the Work. But you may be
safely allow’ d to make the inward Shell, and
all the Front of the Wall of that Side, of a
softer and weaker Stone; but whatever Shell
you make, whether inward or outward, it
must be always perpendicular, and its Line
exactly even. Its Line must always answer
justly to the Line of the Platform, so as not in
any Part to swell out or sink in, or to be
wavy, or not exactly plum, and perfectly well
compacted and finished. If you rough. Cast
your Wall as you build it, or while it is fresh,
whatever Plaistering or Whitening you do it
over with afterwards will last, in a Manner, for
ever. There are two Sorts of Stuffing; the
one is that with which we fill the Hollow that
is left between the two Shells, consisting of

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Mortar and broken Fragments of Stone thrown
in together without any Order; the other con-
sisting of ordinary rough Stone, with which
we may be said rather to wall than only to fill
up. Both plainly appears to have been in-
vented by good-husbandry, because any small
Coarse Stuff is used in this Kind of Work.

But if there was Plenty of large square Stone
easily to be had, who I wonder, would choose
to make Use of small Fragments? And indeed
herein alone the Ribs of the Wall differ from
what we call the Finishing, that between the
two Shells of this latter we stuff in coarse Rub-
bish or broken Pieces that come to Fland;
whereas, in the Former we admit very sew
or no unequal Stones, but make those Parts of
the Wall quite through, of what we have
call’ d the ordinary Sort of Work. If I were to
choose, I would have the Wall throughout
made of nothing but regularCourses of squared
Stone, that it might be as lasting as possible;
but whatever hollow you leave between the
Shells to be filled up with Rubbish, you should
take Care to let the Courses of each Side be
as even as possible and it will be proper be-
sides to lay a good many large Stones, at con-
venient Distances, that may go quite through
the Wall to both Shells, in order to bind and
gird them together, that the Rubbish you
stuff them with may not burst them out.

The Ancients made it a Rule in stuffing their
Walls, not to continue the Stuffing uninterrup-
ted to the Fleigth of above five Foot, and then
they laid over it a Course of whole Stone. This
fasten’ d and bound the Wall, as it were, with
Nerves and Ligaments; so that if any Part of
the Stuffing, either through the Fault of the
Workman, or by Accident, happen’ d to sink,
it could not pull every Thing else along with
it, but the Weight above had in a Manner

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a new Basis to rest upon. Lastly, we are
taught what I find constantly observed
among the Ancients, never to admit any Stone
among our Stuffing that weighs above a Pound,
because they suppose that small ones unite
more easily, and knit bettter with the Cement
than large ones.

IT is not altogether foreign to our Pur-
pose, what we read in Plutarch of King Minos,
that he divided the Plebeans into several Clas-
ses, according to their several Professions, upon
this Principle, that the smaller the Parts are
a Body is split into, the more easily it may
be governed and managed. It is also of no
little Consequence to have the Hollow com-
pletly fill’ d up, and every the least Crevice
close stopt, not only upon the Account of
Strength, but likewise to hinder any Animals
from getting in and making their Nests there,
and to prevent the Gathering of Dirt and
Seeds, which might make Weeds grow in the
Wall. It is almost incredible what huge
Weights of Stone, and what vast Piles I have
known moved and opened by the single Root
of one Plant. You must take Care therefore
to let your whole Structure be girt and fill’ d
compleatly.

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CHAP. IX.

Of the Girders of Stone, of the Ligamen t and Fortification of the Cornices,
and how to unite several Stones for the strengthen ing of the Wall.

A mong the Girders we reckon those Cour-
ses of large Stone which tie the out-
ward Shell to the Inward, and which bind the
Ribs one into the other, such as are those
which we said in the last Chapter ought to be
made every five Foot. But there are other
Girders besides, and those principal ones,
which run the whole Length of the Wall to
embrace the Corners and strengthen the whole
Work: But these latter are not so frequent,
and I do not remember ever to have seen
above two, or at most three in one Wall.

Their Place is the Summit of the Wall, to be
as it were a Crown to the Whole, and to per-
form the same Service at the Top which the
other more frequent Girders at the Distance
of every five Foot do in the Middle, where
smaller Stones are allow’ d; but in these other
Girders, which we call Cornices, as they are
fewer and of more Importance, so much the
larger and the stronger Stones they require. In
both according to their different Offices, the
best, the longest, and the thickest Stones are
necessary. The smaller Girders are made to
answer to the Rule and Plum-line with the
rest of the Shell of the Wall: but these great
ones, like a Crown, project somewhat forwards.

These long, thick Stones must be laid exactly
plum, and be well link’ d with the under
Courses, so as to make a Kind of Pavement
at Top to shadow and protect the Substruc-
ture. The Way of placing these Stones one
upon the other, is to let the Middle of the
Stone above answer exactly to the Juncture of

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the two in the Course below, so that its Weight
is equally pois’ d upon them both; as (A.)
Which way of Working, as it ought not in-
deed to be neglected in any Part of the Wall,
ought to be particularly followed in the Gir-
ders. I have observed that the Ancients in
their checquer’ d Works used to make their
Girders of five Courses of Bricks, or at least of
three, and that all of them, or at least one
Course was of Stone, not thicker than the rest,
but longer and broader; as (B.) But in their
ordinary Sort of Brick-work, I find they were
content for Girders to make at every five Foot
a Course of Bricks two Foot thick as (C)

  • I KNOW some too have interspers’ d Plates or
    Cramps of Lead of a considerable Length,
    and as broad as the Wall was thick, in order
    to bind the Work. But when they built with
    very large Stone, I find they were contented
    with fewer Girders, or even only with the
    Cornices. In making the Cornices, which are
    to girt in the Wall with the strongest Liga-
    ture, we ought to neglect none of the Rules
    which we have laid down about the Girders;
    namely, we should use in them none but the
    longest, thickest, and strongest Stones, which
    we should put together in the most exact and
    regular Order, each laid nicely even and level
    by the Square and Plum-line. And we ought
    to be more diligent and careful in this Part of
    the Work, because it is to gird in the Whole
    Wall, which is more apt to ruinate in this Part
    than in any other. The Covering too has its
    Office with relation to the Wall; whence it
    is laid down as a Rule, that to a Wall of crude
    Bricks we are to make a Cornice of baked
    ones, to the Intent that if any Water should

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chance to fall from the End of the Covering,
or from the Gutters, it may be it may do no
Mischief, but that the Wall may be defended
by the Projecting of the Cornice. For which
Reason we ought to take Care that every Paid
of the Wall have a Cornice over it for a
Covering to it, which ought to be firmly
wrought and well stucco’ d over to repel all the
Injuries of the Weather. We are here again
to consider in what Manner we are to unite
and consolidate a Number of seperate Stones
into one Body of Wall; and the principal
Thing that offers itself to our Thoughts as
necessary, is good Lime; though I do not
take it to be the proper Cement for every Sort
of Stone: Marble, for Instance, if touch’ d
with Lime, will not only loose its Whiteness,
but will contract foul bloody Spots. But Mar-
ble, is so delicate and so coy of its Whiteness,
that it will hardly bear the Touch of any
Thing but itself; it disdains Smoke; smear’ d

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1

with Oil, it grows pale; wash’ d with Red
Wine, it turns of a dirty brown; with Water,
kept some time in Chessnut-wood, it changes
quite thro’ to black, and is so totally stain’ d,
that no scraping will fetch out the Spots. For
this Reason the Ancients used Marble in their
Works naked, and if possible without the
least Mortal” But of these hereafter.

CHAP. X.

Of the true Manner of Working the Wall, and of the Agreement there is be-
tween Stone and Sand.

Now as it is the Business of an expert
Workman, not so much to make
Choice of the fittest Materials, as to put those
which he is supplied with to the best and
properest Uses; we will proceed on our Sub-
ject in this Manner. Lime is well burnt, when
after it has been water’ d, and the Heat gone
out of it, it rises up like the Froth of Milk,
and swells all the Clods. Its not having been
long enough soak’ d you may know by the little
Stones you will find in it when you mix the
Sand with it. If you put too much Sand to it,
it will be too sharp to cement well; if you
put less than its Nature and Strength requires,
it will be as stiff as Glue, and is not to be
managed. Such as is not thoroughly soak’ d,
or that is weaker upon any other Account,
may be used with less Danger in the Foundation
than in the Wall, and in the Stuffing than in
Shells. But the Corners, the Ribs, and the
Band-stones must be entirely free from Mortar
that has the least Defect; and Arches especi-
ally require the very best of all. The Corners,
and Ribs, and the Band-stones, and Cornices
require the finest, smallest and clearest Sand,
particularly when they are built of polished

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Stone. The Stuffing may be done with
coarser Stone.

STONE in its Nature dry and thirsty, agrees
not ill with River-sand. Stone in its Nature
moist and watery, delights in Pit-sand. I
would not have Sea-sand used towards the
South; it may perhaps do better against the
Northern Winds. For small Stones, a thick
lean Mortal – is best; to a dry exhausted Stone,
we should use a fat Sort; though the Ancients
were of Opinion that in all Parts of the Walls
the fattish Sort is more tenacious than the lean.

Great Stones they always lay upon a very soft
fluid Mortar, so that it rather seems design’ d
to lubricate and make the Bed they are laid
upon slippery, to the Intent, that while they
are fixing in their Places they may be easy to
move with the Hand, then to cement and
fasten them together. But it is certainly proper
to lay a soft Stuff underneath in this Manner,
like a Pillow, to prevent the Stones, which
have a great Weight lying upon them, from
breaking. There are some, who observing
here and there in the Works of the Ancients,
large Stones, which where they join seem
dawb’ d over with red Earth, imagine that the
Ancients used that instead of Mortar. I do
not think this probable, because we never find
both Sides, but only one of them, smear’ d
with this Sort of Stuff. There are some other
Rules concerning the Working of our Walls,
not to be neglected. We ought never to fall
upon our Work with a violent Haste, heaping
one Stone upon another, in a Kind turnul-
tuousHurry, without the least Respite: Neither
ought we, after we have began to build, to
delay it with a sluggish Heaviness, as if we had
no Stomach to what we are about; but we
ought to follow our Work with such a reason-

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able Dispatch, that Speed and Consideration
may appear to go Hand in Hand together.
Experienced Workmen forewarn us against
raising the Structure too high, before what we
have already done is thoroughly settled; be-
cause the Work, while it is fresh and soft, is
too weak and pliable to bear a Superstructure.
We may take Example from the Swallows,
taught by Nature, which when they build
their Nests, first dawb or glue over the Beams
which are to be the Foundation and Basis of
their Edifice, and then are not too hasty to
lay the second dawbing over this, but inter-
mit the Work till the first is sufficiently dry’ d;
after which they continue their Building reason-
ably and properly. They say the Mortal – has
taken sufficient hold when it puts forth a Kind
of Moss or little Flower well known to Masons.
At what Distances it is proper to respite the
we may gather from the Thickness of the
Wall itself, and from the Temperature of the

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PLATE 6. (Page 51)

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PLATE 7. (Page 56)

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Place and of the Climate. When you think
it Time for a Respite, cover the Top of the
Wall over with Straw, that the Wind and Sun
may not exhaust the Strength of the Cement,
and make it rather useless than dry and binding.

When you resume your Work, pour a con-
siderable Quantity of clean Water upon it,
till it is thoroughly soak’ d and wash’ d from
all Manner of Dirt, that no Seeds may be left
to engender Weeds. There is nothing that
makes the Work stronger and more durable
than moistening the Stone sufficiently with
Water; and they say the Stone is never
soak’ d as it should be, if upon breaking, the
Inside all through is not moist and turned black.

Add to what has been said, that in erecting
our Wall we ought, in such Places where it
is possible new Openings may afterwards be
wanting either for Conveniency or Pleasure, to
turn Arches in the Wall, that if you after-
wards take out any of the Work from beneath
those Arches, for the aforesaid Puiposes, the
Wall may have a good Arch, built at the
same Time with itself, to rest upon. It is
hardly to be conceiv’ d how much the Strength
of a Building is impair’ d only by taking out
one single Stone, be it ever so little; and
there is no such Thing as setting a new Struc-
ture upon an old one, but that they will open
and part one from the other; and how much
such a Crack must dispose the Wall to ruin,
need not be mention’ d. A very thick Wall
has no need of Scaffolding, because it is broad
enough for the Mason to stand upon the Wall
itself.

CHAP. XI.

Of the Way of Working different Materials; of Plaistering; of Cramps,
and how to preserve them; the most ancient Instructions of Architects; and

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some Methods to prevent the Mischiefs of Lightening.

We have treated of the best Manner of
Building, what Stone we are to
choose, and how we are to prepare our Mor-
tar: But as we shall sometimes be obliged to
make use of other Sorts of Stone, whereof some
are not cemented with Mortar, but only with
Slime; and others which are join’ d without
any Cement at all: And there are also Buildings
consisting only of Stuffing, or rough Work,
and others again only of the Shells; of all
these we shall say something as briefly as
possible. Stones that are to be cemented with
Slime, ought to be squared, and very arid; and
nothing is more proper for this than Bricks,
either burnt, or rather crude, but very well
dried. A Building made of crude Bricks is
extremely healthy to the Inhabitants, very
secure against Fire, and but little affected by
Earthquakes; But then if it is not of a good
Thickness, it will not support the Roof; for
which Reason Cato directs the Raising of
Pilasters of Stone to perform that Office. Some
tell us, that the Slime which is used for
Cement ought to be like Pitch, and that the
best is that which being steep’ d in Water is
slowest in dissolving, and will not easily rub
off from one’ s Hand, and which condenses
most in drying. Others commend the Sandy
as best, because it is most tractable. This Sort
of Work ought to be cloathed with a Crust of
Mortar on the Outside, and within, if you think
fit, with Plaister of Paris, or white Ear th.

And for the better Sticking these on, you must
in Building your Wall, set little Pieces of Tile
here and there in the Cracks of the Joining,
jutting out like Teeth, for the Plaister to
cleave to. When the Structure is to be com-
posed of naked Stones, they ought to be

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squared and much bigger than the other,
and very sound and strong; and in this Sort
of Work we allow of no stuffing; the Courses
must be regular and even, the Junctures con-
trived with frequent Ligatures of Cramps and
Pins. Cramps are what fasten together with
two Stones sideways that lie even with one
another, and unite them into a Row: Pins
are fix’ d into an upper Stone and an under one,
to prevent the Row from being by any Violence
driven out from the rest. Cramps and Pins
of Iron are not reckoned amiss; but I have
observed in the Works of the Ancients, that
Iron rusts, and will not last; But Brass will
almost endure for ever. Besides, I find that
Marble is tainted by the Rust of the Iron, and
breaks all round it. We likewise meet with
Cramps made of Wood in very ancientStructures;

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and indeed, I do not think them inferior to
those of Iron. The Cramps of Brass and Iron
are sastened in with Lead: But those of Wood
are sufficiently secured by their Shape, which
is made in such Manner, that for Resemblance,
they are called Swallow, or Dove-tailed. The
Cramps must be so placed that no Drops of
Rain may penetrate to them; and it is
Thought that the Brass ones are yet more
strengthened against old Age, if in Casting
they are mixed with one thirtieth Part of Tin:
They will be less liable to rust if they are
anointed with Pitch, or Oil. It is affirmed
that Iron may be so tempered by White-lead,
Plaister, and Liquid Pitch, as not to rust.
Wooden Cramps done over with Maiden-wax
and Lees of Oil, will never rot. I have
known them pour so much Lead upon Cramps,
and that so boyling Hot, that it has burst the
Stones. In ancient Structures we often meet
with very strong Walls made of nothing but
Rubbish and broken Stuff; these are built like
the Mud-Walls common in Spain and Africa,
by fastening on each Side Planks or Hurdles,
instead of Shells, to keep the Stuff together till
it is dry and settled: But herein they differ,
that the Ancients filled up their Work with
Mortar liquid, and in a Manner floating;
whereas, the other only took a clammy Sort
of Earth which they trod and rammed with
their Feet, and with Beetles, after having first
made it tractable by thorough wetting and
kneading. The Ancients also in those rough
Works of theirs, at the Distance of every three
Foot made a Kind of Band of Pieces of large
Stone, especially of the ordinary Sort, or at
least angular; because round Stones, though
they are very hardy against all Sorts of Injuries,
yet if they are not surrounded with strong Sup-
ports, are very unfaithful in any Wall. In

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these other Works, that is to say, in the African
Buildings of Earth, they mixed with their Clay
the Spanish -Broom, or Sea-Bullrush, which
made a Stuff admirably good for Working,
and which remained unhurt either by Wind or
Weather. In Pliny ‘ s Time there was to be
seen upon the Ridges of Mountains several
little Towers for viewing the Country built of
Earth, which had endured quite from the Days
of Hanibal. We make this Sort of Crust
(which is a fitter Name for it than Shell) with
Hurdles and Mats, made of Reeds not fresh
gathered; a Work indeed not very magni-
ficent, but generally used by the Old Plebeian
Romans. They rough Cast the Hurdles over
with Clay, beat up for three Days running
with the Reeds, and then (as we said before)
cloath it with Mortal – , or Plaister of Paris ,
which they afterwards adorn with Painting
and Statues. If you mix your Plaister up with
a third Part of broken Tile, or Brick pounded,
it will be the less injured by wet: If you mix
it with Lime, it will be the Stronger: But in
damp Places, or such as are exposed to Cold and
Frost, Plaister of Paris is very unserviceable.

I will now, by Way of Epilogue, give you a
Law of very great Antiquity among Arch-
itects, which in my Opinion ought no less to
be observed than the Answers of Oracles: And
it is this. Make your Foundation as strong as
possible: Let the Superstructure lie exactly
plum to its Centre: Fortify the Corners and
Ribs of the Wall from the Bottom to the Top
with the largest and the strongest Stones: Soak
your Lime well: Do not use your Stone till
it is thoroughly watered: Set the hardest Sort
to that Side which is most exposed to Injuries:
Raise your Wall exactly by the Square, Level
and Plum-line: Let the Middle of the upper
Stone lie directly upon the Meeting of the two

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below it: Lay the entire Stones in the Courses,
and fill up the Middle with the broken Pieces:
Bind the inward and outside Shells to one
another by frequent Cross or Band-stones. Let
this suffice with Relation to the Wall; we
come now to the Covering. But I will not
pass over one Thing which I find the Ancients
observed very religiously. There are some
Things in Nature which are endued with
Properties by no means to be neglected; par-
ticularly, that the Lawrel-tree, the Eagle, and
the Sea-calf, are never to be touched by
Lightening. There are some therefore who
suppose that if these are inclosed in the Wall,
the Lightening will never hurt it. This I take
to be just as probable as another wonderful
Thing which we are told, that the Land-toad,
or Rudduck, if shut up in an earthen Pot,
and burned in a Field, will drive away the
Birds from devouring the Seeds; and that the
Tree Ostrys, or Ostrya brought into a House,
will obstruct a Woman’ s Delivery; and that
the Leaves of the Lesbian Oernony kept but
under the Roof, will give a Flux of the Belly
and an Evacuation that will certainly prove
Mortal. Fet us now return to our Subject,
for the better understanding of which, it will
be proper to look back to what we have
formerly said of the Fines of Building

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CHAP. XII.

Of Coverings of strait Lines; of the Beams and Rafters, and of the uniting
the Ribs.

Of Coverings, some are to the open Air,
and some are within; some consist of
strait Lines, others of curve, and some of both:

We may add, not improperly, that some are
of Wood, and some of Stone. We will first,
according to our Custom, mention one Obser-
vation which relates in general to all Sorts of
Coverings; which is this: That all manner of
Roofs, or Coverings have their Ribs, Nerves,

Finishings, and Shells, or Crusts, just the same
as the Wall: Which will appeal – from the
Consideration of the Thing itself. To begin
with those of Wood, and consisting of strait
Lines; it is necessary for supporting the Cover
to lay very strong Beams across from one Wall
to the other; which, as we took Notice be-
fore, are Columns laid transverse: These
Beams therefore, are a Sort of Ribs; and if
it were not for the Expences, who would not
wish to have the whole Building consist, if we
may use the Expression, of nothing but Ribs
and solid Work; that is to say, of continued
Columns and Beams close compacted? but we
here consult Oeconomy, and suppose every
Thing to be superfluous, that without Pre-
judice to the Strength of the Work, may be
possibly retrenched; and for this Reason, we
leave Spaces between the Beams. Between
these we lay the Cross-beams, Rafters, and the
like; which may not at all improperly be
reckoned the Ligatures: To these we fit and
joyn Boards and Planks of greater Breadth,
which there is no Reason why we should not
call theFinishing; and in the same Way of think-
ing, the Pavement and Tiling is the Outward

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Shell, and the Ceiling, or Roof, which is over
our Head the Inward. If this be granted, let
us consider whether there is any Thing ne-
cessary to be observed with Relation to any of
these Parts, that having duly examined it, we
may the more easily understand what belongs
to Coverings of Stone. We will speak of them
therefore as briefly as possible: First, taking
Notice of one Thing not foreign to our Pur-
pose. There is a very vicious Practice among
our modern Architects; which is, that in
order to make their Ceilings, they leave great
Holes in the very Ribs of the Building to let
the Heads of the Beams into after the Wall is
finished; which not only weakens the Struc-
ture, but also makes it more exposed to Fire;
because by these Holes the Flames find a
Passage from one Apartment to another. For
which Reason, I like the Method used among
the Ancients, of setting in the Wall strong
Tables of Stone called Corbels, upon which
they laid the Heads of their Beams. If you
would bind the Wall, and the Beams together,
you have Brass Cramps, and Braces, and
Catches or Notches in the Corbel itself, which
will serve for that Puipose. The Beams ought
to be perfectly sound and clear; and especi-
ally about the Middle of its Length it ought
to be free from the least Defect, placing your
Ear at one End of it while the other is struck,
if the Sound come to you dead, and flat, it is
a Sign of some private Infirmity. Beams that
have Knots in them are absolutely to be re-
jected, especially if there are many, or if they
are crouded together in a Cluster. The Side
of the Timber that lies nearest the Heart,
must be planed, and laid uppermost in the
Building; but the Part that is to lie under-
most, must be planed very superficially, only
the Bark, nay, and of that hardly any, or as

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little as possible. Which-soever Side has a
Defect that runs crossways of the Beam, lay
uppermost; if there is a Crak longways, ne-
er venture it of the Side, but lay it either
uppermost, or rather undermost. If you hap-
pen to have Occasion to bore a Hole in it, or
any Opening, never meddle with the Middle
of its length, nor its lower Superficies. If, as in
Churches, the Beams are to be laid in Couples;
leave a Space of some Inches between them,
that they may have Room to exhale, and not
be spoyled by heating one another: And it
will not be amiss to lay the two Beams of the
same Couple different Ways, that both their
Heads may not lie upon the same Pillow;
but where one has its Head, the other may
have its Foot: For by this Means the Strength
of the one’ s Foot will assist the Weakness
of the other’ s Head; and so vice versa. The

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Beams ought also to be related to one another;
that is, they should be of the same Kind of
Timber, and raised in the same Wood, ex-
posed if possible to the same Winds, and fell’ d
the same Day; that being endued with the
same natural Strength, they may bear their
Shares equally in the Service. Let the Beds for
the Beams be exactly level, and perfectly firm
and strong; and in laying them take care
that the Timber does not touch any Lime,
and let it have clear and open Vents all about
it, that it may not be tainted by the Contact
of any other Materials, nor decay by being
too close shut up. For a Bed for the Beams,
spread under them either Fern, a very dry
Kind of Flerb, or Ashes, or rather Lees of

Oil with the bruised Olives. But if your Tim-
ber is so short, that you cannot make a Beam
of one Piece, you must join two or more to-
gether, in such a Manner as to give them the
Strength of an Arch; that is to say, so that
the upper Line of the compacted Beam, can-
not possibly by any Pressure become shorter;
and on the contrary, that the lower Line can-
not grow longer: And there must be a Sort
of Cord to bind the two Beams together,
which shove one another with their Pleads,
with a strong Ligature. The Rafters, and all
the rest of the Wood-work, depend upon the
Goodness and Soundness of the Beams; being
nothing else but Beams split. Boards or Planks
are thought to be inconvenient if too thick, be-
cause whenever they begin to waip they throw
out the Nails; and thin Boards, especially in
Coverings exposed to the Air, they say, must
be fastened with Nails in Pairs, so as to se-
cure the Corners, the Sides and the Middle.
They tell us, that such Nails as are to bear any
transverse Weight, must be made thick; but as

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for others, it matters not if they are thinner;
but then they must be longer, and have
broader Heads.

  • BRASS Nails are most durable in the Air, or
    in wet; but I have found the Iron ones to be
    stronger under Cover. For fa tening of the
    Rafters together, wooden Pins are much used.

Whatever we have here said of Coverings of
Wood, must be observed also with relation to
those of Stone; for such Stones as have Veins,
or Faults running crossways, must be rejected
for the making of Beams, and used in Columns;
or if there are any small inconsiderable Faults,
the Side of the Stone in which it appears,
when it is used, must be laid downwards,

Veins running longways in Beams of any Sort,
are more excusable than transverse ones.

Tables, or Scantlings of Stones also, as well
for other Reasons, as upon Account of their
Weight, must not be made too thick. Lastly,
the Beams, Rafters, and Planks that are used
in Coverings, whether of Wood, or Stone,
must be neither so thin, nor so few as not to
be sufficient for upholding themselves, and their
Burthens; nor so thick, or so crouded as to
take from the Beauty, and Symmetry of the
Work; but those are things we shall speak of
elsewhere. And thus much for Coverings of
straight Lines; unless it may be proper to men-
tion one Thing which is in my Opinion tobe neg-
lected in no Sort of Structure. The Philosophers
have observed, that Nature in forming the Bo-
dies of Animals, always takes care to finish her
Work in such a Manner, that the Bones should
all communicate, and never be seperate one
from the other: So we also should connect the
Ribs togther, and fasten them together well

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with Nerves and Ligatures; so that the Com-
munication among the Ribs should be so con-
tinued, that if all the rest of the Structure
failed, the Frame of the Work should yet
stand firm and strong with all its Parts and
Members.

CHAP. XIII.

Of Coverings, or Roofs of Curve Lines; of Arches, their Difference and Con-
struction, and how to set the Stones in an Arch.

We come now to speak of Roofs made
of Curve Lines, and we arc first to
consider those Particulars wherein they exactly
agree with Coverings of strait Lines. A curvili-
near Roof is composed of Arches; and we have
already said that an Arch is nothing but a
Beam bent. We might also here mention the
Ligatures, and those Things which must be
used for filling up the Vacuities; but I would
be understood more clearly, by explaining
what I take to be the Nature of an Arch, and
of what Parts it consists.

I SUPPOSE then, that Men learnt at first to turn
Arches from this: They saw that two Beams

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set with their Heads one against the other, and
their Feet set wide, would, if fastened at Top,
stand, very firm, by means of the Equalness
of their Weight: They were pleased with this
Invention, and began to make their Roofs
in the same Manner, to throw off the Rain,
both Ways. Afterwards, perhaps, not being
able to cover a wider Space for want of Beams
long enough, they put between the Heads of
these two Beams another crossways at Top,
so that they made a Figure much like that of
the Greek Letter p, and this middle Beam
they might call a Wedge; and as this suc-
ceeded very well, they multiplyed the Wedges,
and thus made a Kind of Arch, whose Figure
mightily delighted them. Then transferring
the same Method to their Works of Stone, con-
tinuing to multiply the Wedges, they made
an entire Arch, which must be allowed to be
nothing else but a Conjunction of a Number
of Wedges, whereof some standing with their
Heads below the Arch, are called the Foot of
the Arch, those in the Middle above, the Key
of the Arch, and those on the Sides, the Turn,
or Ribs of the Arch. It will not be improper
here to repeat what we said in the first Book
upon this Subject: There are different Sorts
of Arches, the Entire, is the full half of a
Circle, or that whose Chord runs through the
Centre of the Circle; there is another which
approaches more to the Nature of a Beam than
of an Arch, which we call the Imperfect, or
diminished Arch, because it is not a compleat
Semi-circle; but a determinate Paid less,
having its Chord above the Centre, and at
some Distance from it. There is also the
Composite Arch, called by some the Angular,
and by others an Arch compsed of two Arches
less than Semi-circles; and its Chord has the
two Centres of two Curve Lines, which

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mutually intersect each other. That the Entire
Arch is the Strongest of all, appears not only
from Experience, but Reason; for I do not
see how it can possibly disunite of itself, unless
one Wedge shoves out another, which they are
so far from doing, that they assist and support
one another. And indeed, if they were to go
about any such Violence, they would be pre-
vented by the very Nature of Ponderosity, by
which they are pressed downwards, either by
some Superstructure, or by that which is in the
Wedges themselves. This makes Varro say,
that in Arches, the Work on the right Hand
is keptup no less by that on the Left, than the
Work on the Left is by that on the Right. And
if we look only into the Thing itself; how is
it possible for the middle Wedge at Top, which
is the Key-stone to the Whole, to thrust out
either of the two next Side Wedges, or how
can that be driven out of its Place by them?

The next Wedges also in the Turn of the
Arch, being justly counterpoised, will surely
stand to their Duty; and lastly, how can the
two Wedges under the two Feet of the Arch,
ever be moved while the upper ones stand firm?
Therefore we have no need of a Cord, or Bar
in an entire Arch, because it supports itself
by its own Strength; but in diminish’ d
Arches there is Occasion either for an Iron
Chain or Bar, or for an Extension of Wall on
both Sides, that may have the Effect of a Bar
to supply the Want of Strength, that there is
in the diminish’ d Arch, and make it equal to
the Entire. The ancient Architects always
use these Precautions, and where-ever it was
possible, constantly secured their diminish’ d
Arches, by setting them in a good Body of
Wall. They also endeavour’ d, if they had an
Opportunity, to turn their imperfect Arches
upon a strait Beam; and over these imperfect

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ones, they used to turn entire Arches, which
protected the diminished ones which were
within them, and took upon themselves the
Burthen of the Superstructure. As for Com-
posite Arches, we do not find any of them in
the Buildings of the Ancients; some think
them not amiss for the Apertures in Towers;
because they suppose they will cleave
the great Weight that is laid upon
them, as the Prow of a Ship does the Water,
and that they are rather strengthened than op-
press’ d by it.

THE Stones used in Building an Arch,
should be every Way the biggest that can be
got; because the Parts of any Body that are
united and compacted by Nature, are more
inseparable than those which are join’ d and
cemented by Art. The Stones also ought to
be equal on both Sides, as if they were balan-
ced with respect to their Fronts, Sizes, Weight,
and the like. If you are to make a Portico, and
to draw several Arches over continued Aper-
tures, from the Capitals of Columns, never let
the Seat from which two or more Arches are
to rise, be made of two Pieces, or of as many
as there are to be Arches, but only of one
single Stone, and that as strong as may be, to
hold together the Feet of all the Arches. The
second Stones in the Arch, which rise next to
these, if they are large Pieces, must be set

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with their Backs against each other, joining
perpendicularly. The third Stone which is
laid upon these second ones, must be set
by the Plum-lines, as we directed in raising
the Wall, with even Joinings, so that they
may serve both the Arches, and be a Binding
to both their Wedges. Let the Lines of the
Joinings of all the Stones in the Arch point
exactly to the Centre of that Arch.

THE most skillful Workmen always make
the Key-stone of one single Piece, very large
and strong; and if the Breadth of the Top is
so great, that no one Stone will suffice, it will
then be no longer only an Arch, but a vaul-
ted Roof.

CHAP. XIV.

Of the several Sorts of Vaults, and wherein they differ; of what Lines they
are composed, and the Method of letting them settle.

There are several Sorts of Vaults; so
that it is our Business here to enquire
wherein they differ, and of what Lines they
are composed; in doing of which, I shall be
obliged to invent new Names, to make myself
clear and perspicuous, which is what I have
principally studied in these Books. I know
Ennius the Poet calls the Arch of the Heavens
the mighty Vaults; and Servius calls all Vaults
made like the Keel of a Ship, Caverns: But I
claim this Liberty; that whatever in this Work,
is expressed aptly, clearly, and properly, shall
be allowed to be expressed right. The differ-
ent Sorts of Vaults are these, the plain Vault,
the Camerated, or mixed Vault, and the he-
mispherical Vault, or Cupola; besides those
others which partake of the Kind of some of
these. The Cupola in its Nature is never

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placed but upon Walls that rise from a cir-
cular Platform: The Camerated are proper for
a square one; the plain Vaults are made over
any quadrangular Platform, whether long or
short, as we see in all sub erraneous Porticoes.
Those Vaults too which are like a Hill bored
through, we also call plain Vaults; the plain
Vault therefore, is like a Number of Arches
join’ d together Sideways; or like a bent Beam
extended out in Breadth, so as to make a Kind
of a Wall turn’ d with a Sweep over our
Heads for a Covering. But if such a Vault
as this, running from North to South, hap-
pens to be cross’ d by another which runs from
East to West, and intersects it with equal
Lines meeting at the Angles like crooked
Horns, this will make a Vault of the Camer-
ated Sort. But if a great Number of equal
Arches meet at the Top exactly in the Centre,
they constitute a Vault like the Sky, which
therefore we call the Hemispherical, or com-
pleat Cupola. The Vaults made of Part of
these, are as follows: If Nature with an even
and perpendicular Section, were to divide the
Hemisphere of the Heavens in two Parts, from
East to West, it would make two Vaults,
which would be proper Coverings for any
semi-circular Building. But if from the Angle
at the East, to that at the South, and from the
South to the West, thence to the North, and
so back again to the East, if Nature were to
break and interrupt this Hemisphere by so
many Arches turn’ d from Angle to Angle,
she would then leave a Vault in the Middle,
which for its Resemblance to a swelling Sail,
we will venture to call a Velar Cupola. But
that Vault which consists of a Number of
plain Vaults meeting in a Point at Top, we
shall call an Angular Cupola.

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IN the Construction of Vaults, we must
observe the same Rules as in that of the Walls,
carrying on the Ribs of the Wall clear up to
the Summit of the Vault; and according to
the Method prescribed for the Former, observ-
ing the same Proportions and Distances: From
Rib to Rib, we must draw Ligatures crossways,
and the Interspaces we must fill up with Stuf-
fing. But the Difference between the Work-
ing of a Vault and a Wall, lies in this; that
in the Wall the Courses of Stone are laid even
and perpendicular by the Square and Plum-
line; whereas, in the Vault the Courses are
laid by a curve Line, and the Joints all point
to the Centre of their Arch.

THE Ancients hardly ever made their Ribs
of any but burnt Bricks, and those generally
about two Foot long, and advise to fill up the
Interspaces of our Vaults with the lightest
Stone, that they might not oppress the Wall
with too great a Weight. But I have observed
that some have not always thought themselves
obliged to make continued solid Ribs, but in
their stead, have at certain Distances, set Bricks
lying Sideways, with their Heads jointing into

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PLATE 8. (Page 59)

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1

each other, like the Teeth of a Comb; as a Man
locks his right Hand Fingers into his left; and
the Interspaces they filled up with any common
Stone, and especially with Pumice Stone, which
is universally agreed to be the properest of all,
for the stuffing Work of Vaults. In building
either Arches or Vaults, we must make use of
Centres. These are a Kind of Frames made
with the Sweep of an Arch of any rough Boards
just clapt together for a short Service, and
covered either with Hurdles, Rushes, or any
such common Stuff, in order to support the
Work till it is settled and hardened. Yet there
is one sort of Vault which stands in no Need
of these Machines, and that is the perfect
Cupola; because it is composed not only of
Arches, but also, in a Manner, of Cornices.

And who can conceive the innumerable Liga-
tures that there are in these, which all wedge
together, and intersect one another both with
equal and unequal Angles? So that in whatso-
ever Part of the whole Cupola you lay a Stone,
or a Brick, you may be said at the same time
to have laid a Key-stone to an infinite Number,
both of Arches, and Cornices. And when
these Cornices, or Arches are thus built one
upon the other, if the Work were inclined to
ruinate, where should it begin, when the Joints
of every Stone are directed to one Centre with
equal Force and pressure? Some of the Ancients
trusted so much to the Firmness of this Sort of
Structure, that they only made plain Cornices
of Brick at stated Distances, and filled up the
Interspaces with Rubble. But I think, those
acted much more prudently, who in raising
this Sort of Cupola, used the same Methods as
in Walling, to cramp and fasten the under
Cornices to the next above, and the Arches
too in several Places, especially if they had not
plenty of Pit Sand to make very good Cement,

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or if the Building was exposed to South Winds,
or Blasts from the Sea. You may likewise
turn the Angular Cupolas without a Centre,
if you make a perfect one in the Middle of the
Thickness of the Work. But here you will
have particular’ Occasion for Ligatures to fasten
the weaker Parts of the outer one tightly to
the stronger Parts of that within. Yet it will
be necessary when you have laid one or two
Rows of Stone to make little light Stays, or
Catchers jutting out, on which, when those
Rows are settled, you may set just Frame-work
enough to support the next Courses above, to
the Height of a few Feet, till they are sufficiently
hardened; and then you may remove these
Frames, or Supports, higher and higher to
the other Courses till you have finish’ d the

whole Work. The other Vaults, both plain and
mixed, or camerated, must needs be turn’ d
upon Centres. But I would have the first
Courses, and the Heads of their Arches be
placed upon very strong Seats; nor can I ap-
prove the Method of those who cany the
Wall clear up first, only leaving some Mould-
ings, or Corbels, upon which, after a Time,
they turn their Arches; which must be a very
infirm and perishable Sort of Work. The
true Way is to turn the Arch immediately,
and equally with the Courses of the Wall
which is to support it, that the Work may
have the strongest Ligatures that is possible,
and grow in a Manner all of one Piece. The
Vacuities which are left between the Back of
the Sweep of the Arch, and the Upright of
the Wall it is turn’ d from, call’ d by Work-
men, the Hips of the Arch, should be fill’ d
up, not with Dirt, or old Rubbish, but rather
with strong ordinary Work, frequently knit
and jointed into the Wall.

202

I AM pleased with those who, to avoid over-
burthening the Arch, have stuffed up these
Vacuities with earthen Pots, turn’ d with their
Mouths downwards, that they might not con-
tain any wet, if it should gather there, and
over these thrown in Fragments of Stone not
heavy, but perfecty sound. Lastly, in all Man-
ner of Vaults, let them be of what Kind they
will, we ought to imitate Nature, who, when
she has knit the Bones, fastens the Flesh with
Nerves, interweaving it every where with Li-
gatures running in Breadth, Length, Fleight
and circularly. This artful Contexture is what
we ought to imitate in the joining of Stones
in Vaults. These Things being compleated,
the next, and last Business is to cover them
over; a Work of the greatest Consequence in
Building, and no less difficult than necessary;
in effecting, and compleating of which, the
utmost Care and Study has been over and over
employed. Of this we are to treat; but first,
it will be proper to mention something neces-
sary to be observed in working of Vaults; for
different Methods are to be taken in the Exe-
cution of different Sorts: Those which are
turn’ d upon Centres must be finish’ d out of
hand, without Intermission; but those which
are wrought without Centres must be discon-
tinued, and left to settle Course by Course,
left new Work being added to the first before
it is dry, should ruin the Whole. As to those

1

which are turned upon Centres, when they arc
closed with their Key-stones, it will be proper
immediately to ease the Props a little, that
those Centres rest upon; not only to prevent
the Stones fresh laid from floating in the Beds
of Mortar they are set in, but that the whole
Vault may sink and close by its own Weight
epually, into its right Seat: Otherwise in drying,
the Work would not compact itself as it ought,
but would be apt to leave Cracks when it came
afterwards to settle. And therefore you must
not quite take away the Centre immediately,
but let it down easily Day after Day, by little
and little, for Fear, if you should take it away
too soon, the Building should never duly cement.
But after a certain Number of Days, according
to the Greatness of the Work, easeit a little, and
so go on gradually, till the Wedges all compact
themselves in their Places, and are perfectly
settled. The best Way of letting down the
Frame is this: When you place your Centre
upon the Pilasters, or whatever else it is to
rest upon, put under each of its Feet two
Wedges of Wood; aud when afterwards you
want to let it down, you may with a Ham-
mer safely drive out these Wedges by little
and little, as you shall judge proper.

LASTLY, it is my Opinion, that the Centres
ought not to be taken away till after Winter,
as well for other Reasons, as because the
Washing of the Rains may weaken and de-
molish the whole Structure; though else we
cannot do greater Service to a Vault than to
give it Water enough, and to let it be
thoroughly soak’ d, that it may never feel Thirst.
But of this Subject we have said enough.

CHAP. XV.

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1

Of the Shell of the Covering, and its Usefulness; the different Sorts and
Shapes of Tiles, and what to make them of

I now come to cover the Roof. And cer-
tainly, if we weigh the Matter duly, there
is no Convenience in the whole Building
greater than the having Shelter from the burn-
ing Sun, and the inclement Seasons; and this
is a Benefit which you owe the Continuance
of, not to the Wall, nor to Area, nor any of
these; but principally to the outward Shell of
the Roof; which all the Art and Industry of
Man, though they have fried all Means, has
not yet been able to make so strong and im-
penetrable against the Weather as might be
wish’ d: Nor do I think, it will be an easy
Matter to do it; for where, not only Rains,
but Extremes of Heat and Cold, and above
all, blustering Storms of Wind, are continu-
ally assaulting the same Place; what Mate-
rials are strong enough to resist such unwearied
and powerful Adversaries? Hence it happens,
that some Coverings presently rot, others open,
others oppress the Wall, some crack, or break,
others are washed away; insomuch, that even
Metals, which are so hardy against the Wea-
ther, in other Places, are not here able to hold
out against such frequent Assaults. But Men
not despising such Materials as Nature furnish-
ed them with in their respective Countries,
have provided against these Inconveniences as
well as they were able; and hence arose various
Methods of Covering in a Building. Vitruvi-
us tells us, that the Pyrgenses covered their
Houses with Reeds, and the People of Mar-
seilles with Clay kneaded, and mixed with
Straw. The Chelonophagi, near the Garaman—
tes, Pliny tells us, cover’ d theirs with the
Shells of Tortoises. The greatest Part of Ger-
many use Shingles. In Flanders and Picardy,

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they cut a white Sort of Stone which they
have (which Saws easier than Wood itself) in-
to their Scantlings, which they use instead of
Tiles. The Genoueze, and Florentines use thin
Pieces of a scaly Sort of Stone. Others have
fried the Pargets, which we shall speak of by
and by. But after having made Experiment of
every Thing, the Wit and Invention of Man
has found out nothing yet more convenient
than Tiles of baked Clay. For all Sorts of
Parget grow rugged in Frosts, and so crack and
break: Fead is melted by the Sun’ s Heat:

Brass, if laid in thick Plates, is very costly;
and if it is thin, it is apt to waip, and to be
eaten and consumed with Rust.

ONE Grinias of Cyprus , the Son of a Pea-
sant, is said to be the Inventer of Tiles, which
are of two Sorts, the one broad and flat, one
Foot broad, and a Foot and a half long.

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with Rims of each Side, a ninth Part of its
Breadth, which is call’ d a Gutter-tile; the
other round, like Greaves, (a Piece of Armour
for the Legs,) which is called a Ridge-tile;
both broader in that Part which is to receive
the Rain, and narrower in that from which
they are to discharge it. But the Plain, or
Gutter-tiles are the most Commodius, pro-
vided they are laid exactly even, so as not to
lean of either Side, nor to make either Vallies
or Hilocks to stop the Current of the Water,
or to let it settle in, nor to leave any Cranny
uncover’ d. If the Superficies of the Roof is
very large, it requires bigger Gutter-tiles, that
the Rain may not overflow them for want of
a sufficient Receptacle. To prevent the Fury
of the Wind from ripping off the Tiles, I
would have them all fastened with Mortal”
especially in publick Buildings: But in private
Ones, it will be enough if you secure only the
Gutter-tiles from that Violence, because what-
ever Mischief is done, is easily repair’ d. There
is another very convenient Way of Tiling, in
this Manner: If in Timber Roofs, instead of
Planks, you lay along the Girders Squares of
baked Clay, fasten’ d with Plaister of Paris , and
over these Squares lay your Tiles with Mortar,
it will be a Covering very secure against Fire,
and very commodious to the Inhabitants; and
it will be less expensive, if, instead of Squares,
you underlay it with Reeds, bound with Mor-
tar. I would not have you use your Tiles,
and especially those which you lay with Mor-
tar, in publick Works, till they have supported
the Frost and Sun two Years; because, if you
happen to use any bad ones, there is no taking
them out again without a good deal of
Trouble and Expence. It may not be amiss
here to mention what I have read in Diodorus
the Flistorian, relating to the famous hanging

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1

Gardens in Syria, which were contrived with
a new, and not unuseful Invention: For upon
the Beams they laid Rushes dawb’ d over with
Pitch, and on these two Rows of baked
Bricks, one above the other, cemented with
Mortar; and in the third Place, they laid
Plates of Lead so disposed, and fasten’ d to-
gether, that not the least wet could penetrate
to the Brick.

CHAP. XVI.

Of Pavements according to the Opinion of Pliny and Vitruvius, and the Works
of the Ancien ts; and of the proper Seasons for Beginn ing and Finishing
the several Parts of Building.

We come now to treat of Pavements,
which also partake somewhat of the
Nature of Coverings. Of these, some are
open to the Air; others are laid upon Rafters
and Boards, others not: All require for their
Foundation a solid, and even Superficies, laid
exactly according to their proper Lines. Those
which arc open to the Air ought to be raised
in such a Manner, that every ten Foot may
have a Declivity of, at least, two Inches, to
throw off the Water, which ought to be con-
veyed from thence either into Cisterns or
Sinks. If from these Sinks you have not the
Conveniency of a Drain, either into the Sea,
or some River, dig Pits for the Soil in conve-
nient Places, so deep as to come to some Spring
of Water, and then fill up those Pits with
round Pebbles.

LASTLY, if you have no Opportunity to
do this, make good large Sinks, and fling
Coals into them, and then fill them up with
Sand, which will suck up, and dry away the
superfluous Moisture. If the Superficies that

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your Pavement is to be laid upon, is a soft
loose Earth, ram it soundly, and lay it over
with broken Fragments of Stone, well beat in
with the Rammer also: But if the Pavement
is to be upon Rafters, cover them over with
Boards, and upon them lay your Rubbish or
Fragments of Stone a Foot high, and beaten
together, and consolidated with the Rammer.
Some are of Opinion, that under these we
ought to lay Fern, or Spart, to keep the Mor-
tar from rotting the Timber. If your Rub-
bish is of new Stone, allow one Part of Mortar
to three of Rubbish; if it is of old, you must
allow two Parts in five; and when it is laid,
the Way to stiffen it, is to pound it heartily
with the Rammer. Over these you lay a
Plaister six Inches high, made of broken
Tiles, or Bricks pounded, mix’ d with one
fourth Part of Mortal” and upon this, lastly,
you lay your Pavement, of whatsoever Sort it
is, whether of Brick or Tile, exactly by Rule

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1

and Level. The Work will be more secure
still, if between the Rubbish, and the Plaister
you lay a Row of plain Tiles cemented with
Mortar, mixed up with Oil. As for Pave-
ments which are not to be exposed to the open
Air. Varro directs us to make them in the
following Manner, which he tells us will be
very serviceable by means of its extraordinary
Dryness: Dig two Foot deep into the Ground,
then ram the Bottom soundly, and lay a Pave-
ment, either of Rubbish, or broken Brick,
leaving Vent-holes for the Vapours to discharge
themselves; over this lay Coals well levell’ d,
and ramm’ d down, and over all a Crust made
of Sand, Mortar, and Ashes. These Things
already mention’ d, we have gathered from
Pliny and Vitruvius especially: I will now set
down what I have with great Pains and Labour
discovered relating to Pavements from the
actual Works of the Ancients; from whence,

I consess, I have learnt much more than from
their Writings. We will begin with the Out-
ward Shell, which it is very difficult to make,
so as it shall not rot, or crack: For when once
it has been thoroughly soak’ d with wet, and
comes to dry again, either by Sun, or Wind,
it dries by Scales, and as we see in Mud left
after Floods, the upper Coat shrinks, and
leaves Cracks which cannot be filled up; for
those Parts which are dried and hardened,
cannot be made to cohere again by any Art
whatsoever, and those which are still moist,
yield and give Way to the least Violence. I
find the Ancients made their Shell either of
baked Earth, or of Stone; and where Mens
Feet were not to tread, they made their Tiles
sometimes a Foot and a half every Way, ce-
mented with Mortar mixed up with Oil; we
also sometimes meet with small Bricks one
Inch in Thickness, two in Breadth, and four in

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Length, join’ d Sideways like a Fish’ s Back-
bone. We often find Pavements of very large
Slabs of Marble, and others again of smaller
Pieces, and little Squares. There are other An-
cient Pavements made all of one Piece, which
I suppose, was a Mixture of Lime, Sand, and
pounded Brick, of each a third Part: which
may be made more strong and lasting yet, by
the Addition of one fourth Paid of Tyber –
Stone, beat to Powder. Others in this Sort of
Plaister mightily commend the Sand of Poz-
zuolo, which they call Rapillo. Plaister that is
designed for Pavements must be tried by con-
tinual beating, whereby it will daily acquire
greater Stiffness and Hairiness, till it comes to be
in a Manner firmer than Stone itself And it
is certain, that if this Plaister is sprinkled with
Lime-water, and Linseed-oil, it will grow
almost as hard as Glass, and desy all Manner of
Weather. Mortar worked up with Oil, is said
in Pavements to keep out every Thing that is
noxious. Under the Shell I observe they made
a Layer of Mortal – , and small Pieces of broken
Brick, of the Thickness of two or three Inches.
Next to this we find a Course of Rubbish, of
Bits of Bricks and Chippings of Stone, such as
the Masons cut off with their Chizzel, and this
is about a Foot in Thickness. In some Places
betwixt these two Courses, we find a regular
one of baked Tile, or Brick, and at the Bottom
of all a Layer of Stones, none bigger than a
Man’ s Fist. The Stones found in Rivers,
which are called Male ones, as for Instance,
those round ones which partake of the Nature
of Flint, or Glass, grow dry immediately when
they are taken out of the Water, whereas Brick
and ordinary Stone retain Moisture a long
Time; for which Reason, many affirm that the
Damps which arise out of the Earth will never
be able to penetrate to the Shell of the Pave-

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ment, if it is underlaid with those Stones. We
sometimes find that they made little square
Pilasters a Foot and a half high next to the
Ground, standing about two Foot distance one
from the other, upon which they laid baked
Tiles, and upon these the Pavement above-
mention’ d. But this Kind of Pavement belongs
chiefly to Baths; of which we shall treat in
their proper Place. Pavements delight in
Damps, and a wet Air, while they are making,
and endure best and longest in moist and shady
Places; and their chief Enemies are the Loose-
ness of the Earth, and sudden Droughts. For
as repeated Rains make the Ground close and
firm, so Pavements being heartily wetted, grow
compact, and hard as Iron. That Part of the
Pavement which is to receive the Water falling
from the Gutters, ought to be made of the
largest and soundest Stones, such as will not
easily be worn away by the continual Malice
(if we may so call it) of the Spouts that fall
upon them. In such Pavements as are laid
upon Timber-work, or Roofing, you must take
Care that the Ribs upon which it rests are
sufficiently strong, and equal one to the other;
for if it should be otherwife, or one Wall, or
Rafter which it lies upon, should be stronger
than another, the Pavement would decay and
split in that Part; for as Timber- work will
not always keep exactly in the same Condition,

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but is affected and altered by the Variety of
Weather, being swell’ d by wet, and dried and
shrunk by Heat, it is no Wonder that the wea-
ker Parts should sink under the Weight, and
so crack the Pavement. But of this we have
said enough.

HOWEVER, I will not pass over one Thing
which is not at all foreign to our Puipose,
namely, that different Times and Seasons, and
Dispositions of the Air, are proper for digging
the Foundations, filling them up, raising the
Wall, turning of Vaults, and finishing the
Shells. The Foundations are best dug while
the Sun is in Leo , and in Autumn, the Ground
being then thoroughly dry, which will keep
your Trench from being infested with Water.
The Spring is very convenient for filling them
up, especially if they are pretty deep; because
they will be sufficiently defended from the
Heat of the Summer, by means of the Ground
which stands about them as their Protector;
though it will be still more convenient to fill
them up in the Beginning of Winter, unless in
Countries near the Pole, or in such cold
Climates where they will be likely to freeze
before they are dry. The Wall too abhors
both excessive Heat, excessive Cold, and sud-
den Frosts, and especially Northerly Winds.
Vaults, till they are dry and settled, require
an equal and temperate Season, more than
any other Sort of Structure. The best Time
for laying on the Coat is about the rising of
the Stars, call’ d the Pleiadas, (which is in
Spring) and particularly such Days as have
been sufficiently moistened with southerly
Breezes; for if the Work which you are to
plaister over, or white-wash, is not extreamly
moist, nothing that you lay on will stick to it,
but it will part and crack, and always look

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rough and scandalous. But of Plaistering and
Stuc-work we shall treat more largely in its
proper Place. Having now gone through the
general Consideration of our Subject, it remains
that we descend to Particulars; and accor-
dingly we design to shew first the different
Sorts of Buildings, and the Qualities requisite
in each of them; then their Ornaments; and
lastly, how to remedy such Defects in them as
are owing either to the Fault of the Workman,
or the Injury of Time.

The End of Book III.

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THE

ARCHITECTURE

OF

Leone Batista Alberti.

BOOK IV. CHAP. I.

Of Works of a publick Nature. That all Buildings, whether contrived for
Necessity, Conveniency or Pleasure, were intended for the Service of Man-
kind. Of the several Divisions of humane Conditions, whence arises the
Diversity of Bu ildings.

It is plain that Building was in-
vented for the Service of Man-
kind; for if we consider the
Matter ever so little, it is natural
to suppose that their first Design
was only to raise a Structure that might de-
fend them and theirs from the ill Qualities of
the Weather; afterwards they proceeded to
make not only every Thing that was ne-
cessary to their Safety, but also every Thing
that might be convenient or useful to them.

At last, instructed and allured by the Oppor-
tunities that naturally offer’ d themselves, they
began to contrive how to make their Build-
ings subservient to their Pleasures and Recre-
adons, and proceeded every Day further and
further in so doing: So that if upon consider-
ing the various Sorts of Buildings, we
should say, that some were contrived by Ne-
cessity, some by Convenience, and some by
Pleasure, it might, perhaps, be no ill Defini-
tion of the Matter. Yet when we take a View
of the great Plenty and Variety of Buildings
all about us, we easily perceive that all were
not erected merely upon those Accounts, or
for one Occasion more than another, but that
this great Variety and Difference among them,
are owing principally to the Variety there is

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1

among Mankind. So that, if according to
our Method we would make a careful Enquiry
into their Sorts and Parts, it is here that we
must begin our Disquisition, namely, from the
Nature of Mankind, and wherein they differ
from one another; since upon their Account
it is that Buildings are erected, and for their
Uses varied: So that having thoroughly con-
sidered these Things, we may treat of them
more clearly. For this Puipose, it will not
be amiss to recollect the Opinions of the wise
Founders of ancient Republicks and Faws con-

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1

cerning the Division of the People into differ-
ent Orders; in as much as they applied them-
selves to the Consideration of these Things
with the greatest Care, Diligence and Appli-
cation, and have received the highest Applauses
for their Discoveries.

Plutarch tells us, that Theseus divided the
Commonwealth into two Ranks, one that made
and expounded the Laws, both Humane and
Divine, and the other that follow’ d manual Oc-
cupations. Solon distinguish’ d his Citizens
according to their Wealth, and such as did not
raise from their Possessions three hundred
Bushels of Grain every Year, he reckon’ d scarce
worthy to be esteem’ d a Citizen. The Athenians
gave the first Rank to Men of Learning and
Wisdom; the second to the Orators, and the
last to Artificers. Romulus separated the Knights
and Patricians from the Plebeians; and Numa
divided the Plebeians according to their re-
spective Employments. In France the Plebeians
were in a Manner Slaves; the rest, says Ccesar,
were either Soldiers, or Professors of Religion,
or the Study of Wisdom, whom they call’ d
Druids. Among the Punched the first were
the Priests; the second, the Husbandmen,
and the last, the Soldiers, with whom were
reckon’ d the Shepherds, and Tenders of Herds.
The Britons were divided into four Orders;
the first were those out of whose Number
they chose their King; the second were the
Priests; the third, the Soldiers, and the last
the common People. The a Egyptians gave the
first Rank to their Priests; the second to their
King and Governours; the third to the Sol-
diers, and the rest of the People were subdi-
vided into Husbandmen, Shepherds, and Ar-
tificers, and further, as Herodotus informs us,
into Mercenaries, and Seamen. We are told, that

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1

Hipodamus divided his Republic into three Parts,
Artificers, Husbandmen, and Soldiers. Aristotle
seems not displeased with those who separated
from the Multitude some Men of greatest
Worth to manage their Counsels, and exercise
their Office of Magistracy and Judicature, and
divided the Remainder of the People into
Husbandmen, Artificers, Merchants, Merce-
naries, Horse, Foot and Seamen. Not much
unlike this, according to Diodorus the Histo-
rian, was the Commonwealth of the Indians ,
who were distinguished into Priests, Husband-
men, Shepherds, Artificers, Soldiers, Ephori,
or Super-intendants, and those who presided
over the publick Counsels.

Plato observes that a Nation is sometimes
peaceable and desirous of Quiet and Repose;
and at other Times restless and warlike, ac-
cording to the Temper of those at the Helm;
and therefore he divides the Body of the Citi-
zens according to the Parts of the Mind of
Man; one to moderate every Thing with
Reason and Counsel; another to resent and
repel Injuries with Force; and a third to
prepare and administer Nourishment to all
the rest. These Things I have thus briefly
recited out of numorous Writings of the An-
cients; and the natural Result seems to be
this, that all these which I have mentioned
are every one of them different Parts of the
Republick, and consequently that each re-
quires a particular Kind of Building. But
that according to our Custom we may be
able to treat of this Subject more distinctly, it
will not be amiss to reflect upon the follow-
ing Considerations: If any one were to sepa-
rate the whole Number of Mankind into dif-
ferent Parts, the first Thing that would offer
itself to his Thoughts would be this; that it

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is not the same Thing to consider all the In-
habitants of any one Province all together
collectively, and to consider them separately
according to their respective Distinctions; and
the next Thing would be, that by a Contem-
plation of Nature itself, he would take Notice
in what Particular they differ’ d most from
one another, that from thence he might take
Occasion to separate them into their proper
Divisions. Now there is nothing wherein Men
differ more one from the other, than in the
very particular wherein they differ from
Brutes; namely, in Reason, and the Know-
ledge of useful Arts, to which, if you please,
you may add Prosperity of Fortune: In all
which Gifts there are very few that excel at
the same Time. This then opens to us our
first Division, and instructs us to select from
the Multitude, a small Number, whereof some
are illustrious for their Wisdom, Experience
and Capacity; others for their Progress, and
Knowledge in useful Arts; and others, lastly,
for their Riches, and Abundance in the Goods
of Fortune. And who will deny that these
are the most fit to be intrusted with the prin-
cipal Offices in the Commonwealth? The
most excellent Persons, therefore, who are
endued with the greatest Share of Wisdom,
ought to be intrusted with the chief Care and
Power of moderating in all Affairs. Such

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will order the sacred Ceremonies with religious
Minds, and frame Laws with Justice and
Equity, and themselves set the Example of
Living orderly and happily. They will watch
continually for the Defence and Enlargement
of the Authority and Dignity of their Fellow-
Citizens. And when they have determined
upon any Thing convement, useful, or neces-
sary; being perhaps themselves worn out
with Years, and fitter for Contemplation than
Action, they will commit the Execution of it
to such as they know to be well experienced,
and brisk and courageous to bring the Matter
to effect, to whom they will give an Oppor-
tunity of deserving well of their Country, by
the Prosecution of their Design. Then these
others, having taken the Business upon them-
selves, will faithfully perform their Parts at
home with Study and Application, and abroad
with Diligence and Labour, giving Judgment,
leading Armies, and exercising their own In-
dustry, and that of those who are under them.
And lastly, as it is in vain to think of effecting
any Thing without Means, the next in Place
to those already mentioned are such as supply
these with their Wealth, either by Husbandry
or Merchandize. All the other Orders of
Men ought in Reason to obey and be sub-
servient to these as chief. Now if any Thing
is to be gather’ d from all this to our Puipose,
it is certainly that of the different Kinds of
Building, one Sort belongs to the Publick,
another to the principal Citizens, and another
to the Commonality.

AND again, among the principal Sort, one
is proper for those who bear the Weight of
the publick Counsels and Deliberations, an-
other for those who are employ’ d in the Exe-
cution, and another for such as apply them-

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selves to the amassing of Wealth. Of all
which one Part, as we observed before, having
Relation to Necessity, and another to Con-
venience; it will be no Presumption in us
who are treating of Buildings to allow another
Part to Pleasure, while instead of claiming
any Merit upon this Account to ourselves, we
confess that the Principles of this Division are
to be drawn from the first Rudiments of the
Philosophers.

OF this, therefore, we are now to treat,
what belongs to a publick Building, what
to those of the principal Citizens, and what
to those of the common Sort. But where shall
we begin such great Matters? Shall we follow
the gradual Course of Mankind in their pro-
curing of all these, and so beginning with the
mean Huts of poor People, go on by degrees
to those vast Structures which we see of Thea-
tres, Baths, and Temples. It is certain it was
a great while before Mankind enclosed their
Cities with Walls. Historians tell us that
when Bacchus made his Progress thro’ India,
he did not meet with one walled Town; and
Thucydides writes, that formerly there were
none in Greece itself: And in Burgundy, a
Province of Gaul, even in Ccesar ’ s Time, there
were no Towns encompass’ d with Walls, but
the People dwelt up and down in Villages.

The first City I find any Mention of is Biblus,
belonging to the Phcenicians, which Saturn
girt in with a Wall drawn round all their
Houses: Whatever Pomponius Mela may say
of Joppa built even before the Flood. Hero-
dotus informs us, that while the / Ethiopians
had Possession of A Egypt , they never punish’ d
any Criminal with Death, but obliged him to
raise the Earth all round the Village he lived
in; and this, they say, was the first Beginning

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of Cities in A Egypt . But we shall speak of
them in another Place. And though it must
be confess’ d that all humane Inventions take
their Rise from very small Beginnings, yet I
intend here to begin with the Works of the
greatest Perfection.

CHAP. II.

Of the Region, Place, and Conveniencies and Inconveniencies of a Situation
for a City, according to the Opinion of the Ancients, and that of the
Author.

All the Citizens are concerned in every
Thing of a publick Nature that makes
Part of the City: And if we are convinced of
what the Philosophers teach, that the Occasion
and Reason of Building Cities is that the In-
habitants may dwell in them in Peace, and,
as far as possibly may be, free from all Incon-
veniencies and Molestations, then certainly it

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requires the most deliberate Consideration in
what Place or Situation, and with what Cir-
cuit of Lines i ought to be fix’ d. Concern-
ing these Things there have been various
Opinions.

Ccesar writes, that the Germans accounted
it the greatest Glory to have vast uninhabited
Desarts for their Confines: Because they
thought these Desarts secured them against
sudden Irruptions from their Enemies. The
Historians suppose that the only Thing which
deterr’ d Sesostris, King of /Egypt, from lead-
ing his Army into /Ethiopia was the Want of
Provisions, and the Difficulty of the Places
through which he must march. The Assyrians
being defended by their Desarts and Marshes,
never fell under the Dominion of any foreign
Prince. They say, that the Arabians too
wanting both Water and Fruits, never felt the
Assaults, or Injuries of any Enemies. Pliny
says that Italy has been so often infested with
Armies of Barbarians only for the Sake of her
Wines and Figs: We may add that the too
great Plenty of such Things as serve only to
Luxury, are very prejudicial, as Crates teaches,
both to Young and Old; because it is apt to
make the Latter cruel, and the Former effe-
minate.

Livy tells us, that among the ZEmerici there
is a Region wonderfully fruitful, which as it
generally happens in rich Soils, engenders a
very cowardly weak Race of Men; whereas
on the contrary the Ligii, who dwelt in a
stony Country, being forced to constant La-
bour, and to live with great Frugality, were
extremely robust and industrious. The State
of Things being so, it is probable some may
not dislike these barren difficult Places for

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fixing a City in; tho’ others again may be of
a contrary Opinion, desiring to enjoy all the
Benefits and Gifts of Nature, and to want no-
thing that may contribute either to Necessity
or Pleasure; and for the right using of these
Benefits, the Fathers may provide by Laws
and Statutes. And they think the Conveni-
encies of Life are much more pleasing when
they may be had at home, than when they are
obliged to fetch them from abroad: for which
Reason, they desire such a Soil as Varro tells us
is to be found near Memphis, which enjoys so
favourable a Climate, that all the Trees even
the Vines themselves, never drop their Leaves
the whole Year round: or such a one as is
under Mount Taurus in those Parts which look
to the North, where Strabo says the Bunches of
Grapes are three Foot long, and that every
single Vine Tree yields half a Barrel of Wine,
and one Fig Tree an hundred and forty
Pound Weight of Figs; or such a one as is
in India, or the Hyperborean Island in the
Ocean, where Herodotus tells us they gather
their Fruits twice every Year; or like that of Por-
tugal, where the Seeds that fall by chance
yields several Harvests, or rather like Talge, in
the Caspian Mountains, where the Earth
brings forth Corn without Tillage. But these
Things are uncommon, and rather to be with’ d
for than had. And therefore the wife An-
cients who have written upon this Subject,
either from their own Observations, or the
Books of others, are of Opinion, that a City
ought to be so placed as to have all sufficient
Necessaries within its own Territory (as far as
the Condition of human Affairs will permit)
without being obliged to seek them abroad;
and that the Circuit of its Confines ought to
be fortified, that no Enemy can easily make
an Irruption upon them, though at the same

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time they may send out Armies into the Coun-
tries of their Neighbours, whatever the Enemy
can do to prevent it; which is a Situation that
they tell us will enable a City not only to
defend its Liberty, but also to enlarge the
Bounds of its Dominion. But after all, what
shall we say? No Place ever had those Ad-
vantages more than A Egypt , which was so
strongly fortified in all its Parts, as to be in a
Manner inaccessible, having on one Side, the
Sea, and on the other a vast Desart; on the
right Hand steep Mountains; and on the
Left, huge Marshes; besides, the Lruitfulness
of the Soil is so great, that the Ancients used
to call Egypt the Granary of the World, and
fabled that the Gods made it their common
Retreat either for Safety or Pleasure; and yet
even this Country, though so strong, and so
abounding in all Manner of Plenty, that it
could boast of feeding the Universe, and of
entertaining and harbouring the Gods them-
selves, could not, as Josephus informs us, al-
ways preserve its Liberty.

THOSE therefore are entirely in the Right,
who teach us, though in Lables, that human
Affairs are never persectly secure though laid
in the Lap of Jupiter himself. Upon which
Occasion we may not improperly make use of
the same Answer that Plato made when he
was ask’ d where that perfect Commonwealth
was to be found, which he had made so fine
a Description of; that, says he, was not the

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Thing I troubled myself about; all I studied
was how to frame the best that possibly could
be, and that which deviates least from a Re-
semblance of this, ought to be preferred above
all the rest. So our Design is to describe and
illustrate by Examples such a City as the wisest
Men judge to be in all Respects the most con-
venient; and in other Respects accommodat-
ing ourselves to Time and Necessity, we shall
follow the Opinion of Socrates, that whatever
cannot be alter’ d but for the worse, is really
best. I lay it down therefore for granted, that
our City ought to be contrived as to suffer
none of the Inconveniencies spoken of in the
first Book, nor to want any of the Necessaries
of Life. Its Territory shall be healthy, wide,
pleasant, various, fruitful, secure, and abound-
ing with Plenty of Fruits, and great Quantities
of Water. It must not want Rivers, Lakes,
and an open Passage to the Sea for the con-
venient bringing in of such Things as are
wanted, and carrying out such as may be
spared. All Things, in a Word, must con-
tribute to the establishing and improving all
Affairs both civil and military, whereby the
Commonwealth may be a Defence to its Sub-
jects, an Ornament to itself, a Pleasure to its
Friends, and a Terror to its Enemies. I take
it to be a great Happiness to any City, to be
able to cultivate a good handsome Part of its
Territory, in Spite of any Enemy whatsoever.
Moreover your City ought to stand in the
Middle of its Territory, in a Place from
whence it can have a View all round its Coun-
try, and watch its Opportunities, and be ready
where-ever Necessity calls, which may lie con-
venient for the Farmer, and Ploughman to go
out to his daily Labour, and return with Ease
laden with Grain and Fruits. But the Situation
is one of the Things of greatest Importance,

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whether it should be upon an open Plain, or
upon the Shore, or on a Hill: because each of
these have some particular Qualities that are
useful, and others on the contrary that are not
so agreeable.

WHEN Bacchus led his Army through India,
the excessive Heat bred Distempers among
them; whereupon he carried them up to the
Hills, where the Wholesomness of the Air im-
mediately cured them. Those that first built
Cites upon Hills, seem to have done it upon Ac-
count of the Security of such a Situation; but
then they generally want Water. The Plains af-
ford great Conveniencies of Water, and of
Rivers; but the Air is more gross, which
makes the Summer excessively hot, and the
Winter as cold; besides, being less defended
against any Violence.

THE Sea-shore is mighty convenient for the
Importation of Merchandizes; but all Sea-
towns are reckoned too fond and greedy of
Novelties, and to suffer perpetual Commo-
tions from the too great Concourse, and the
Broils of Strangers, and are exposed to very
dangerous Insults and Revolutions from foreign
Fleets. In which soever of these Situations
therefore you build your City, you should en-
deavour to contrive that it may partake of all
the Advantages, and be liable to none of
the Disadvantages. Upon a Hill I would
make the Ground level, and upon a Plain I
would raise it to an Eminence in that Part
where my City was to be placed. And if we
cannot effect this just according to our Wish,
by reason of the great Variety of Places, let
us make use of the following Methods to ob-
tain at least every Thing that is necessary:

On a maritime Coast, if it is a Plain, do not

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let the City stand too near the Sea; nor too
far from it, if it is hilly. We are told that
the Shores of the Sea are liable to Alteration;
and that several Towns, and particularly
Baice in Italy, have been swallow’ d up by the
Waves.

Pharos in A Egypt , which anciently was sur-
rounded by the Sea, is now become a Cher so –
nesus, or Neck of Land. Strabo writes, that
Tyre and Clazomene underwent the same
Change: Nay they tell us that the Temple
of Jupiter Hammon stood once upon the Sea-
shore, though now the Sea has left it, and it
stands far within the Land. They advise us
to build our City either close to the Shore, or
else at a pretty good Distance from the Sea:
for we find that the Winds from the Sea are
heavy and sharp, by reason of their Saltness:
And therefore, when they arrive at some Place
at a middling Distance from the Sea, especially
if it is a Plain, you will find the Air there ex-
tremely moist through the dissolving of the
Salt which it took from the Sea, which makes
it thick and heavy, and perfectly ropy; so
that in such Places you shall sometimes see a
Sort of Strings flying about in the Air like
Cobwebs; And they tell us, that a Mixture
of Salt has the same Effect upon the Air as it
has upon Water, which it will corrupt to
such a Degree as to make it stink very offen-
sively. The Ancients, and chiefly Plato, are
for having a City stand at ten Miles Distance

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from the Sea; but if you cannot place it so
far off, let it be at least in some Situation where
the above-mention’ d Winds cannot reach it,
otherwise than broken, tired and purified;
placing it so, that between it and the Sea there
may stand some Hill to interrupt any noxi-
ous Vapour from thence. A Prospect of the
Sea from the Shore is wonderfully pleasant, and
is generally attended with a wholesome Air;
and Aristotle thinks those Countries are most
healthy where the Winds keep the Atmosphere
in continual Motion: but then the Sea there
must not be weedy, with a low Beach scarce
covered with Water; but deep with a high
bold Shore of a living craggy Rock. The
placing a City upon the proud Shoulders of a
Mountain (if we may be allowed so florid an
Expression) contributes greatly not only to
Dignity and Pleasure, but yet more to Health.

In those Places where the Hills overshadow the
Sea, the Water is always deep; besides that if
any gross Vapours do arise from the Sea, they
spend themselves before they reach so high;
and if any sudden Attack is made upon you from
an Enemy, you lie less liable to be surprized,
and more advantageously for defending your-
self. The Ancients commend a Situation upon
the East Side of a Hill, and in hot Countries,
that Side which lies open to Northern Winds.
Others perhaps may rather chuse the West Side,
from this Inducement, that manured Ground
lying to that Aspect is the most fruitful: And
indeed it is certain Historians tell us, that under
Mount Taurus, the Side which looks to the
North, is much more healthy than the others,
for the very same Reason that it is also more
fruitful. Lastly, if we build our City upon a
Hill, we should take particular Care that we are
not exposed to one great Inconvenience which
generally happens in such a Situation, especially

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if there are other Hills near, which raise their
Heads above us; namely, that there is not a
settled heavy Body of Clouds to darken and
eclipse the Day and infect the Air. We ought,
besides, to have a Care that this Situation is
not exposed to the raging Fury and Violence
of Winds, and especially of the North-wind;
which, as Hesiod tells us, shrinks up and bends
every Body, and particularly old People. It
will make the Situation very bad if there is
any neighbouring Rock standing above the
City, so as to throw upon it the Vapours
raised by the Sun, or any very deep Valley
reaking with unwholesome Steams. Others ad-
vise that the Circuit of the Town should ter-
minate in Clifts and Precipices; but that these
are not always safe against Earthquakes, or
Storms, is sufficiently evident from very many
Towns, and particularly Voltera in Tuscany;
for the very Ground itself falls away in such
Places, and brings down after it whatsoever is
built upon it.

YOU ought also to take particular Care that
such a Situation has no Hill near – that rises
above it, which falling into the Hands of an
Enemy, may enable him to give you continual
Trouble; nor any Plain laying under it big
enough to conceal an Army in Safety, and
give it Time to make Lodgments and open
Trenches, or to range its Forces in Order of
Battle to attack you. We read that Dedalus
built the Town of Agrigentum, now called
Gergento, upon a very steep Rock, with a very
difficult Passage to it, insomuch that only
three Men were sufficient to defend it; a Fort-
ress certainly very convenient, provided your
Passage out cannot be stopt by the same Num-
ber of Men that can secure the Passage in.

Men of Experience in military Affairs greatly

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commend the Town of Cingoli, built by Lcibi-
enus in the Mark of Ancona; because, besides
several other Advantages that it has, it will not
allow of one Thing common in mountainous
Situations, which is that when once you have
climbed up to the Top, you then can fight
upon an equal Foot; for here you are repulsed
by a very high steep Precipice: Neither can the
Enemy here waste and destroy the Country
round with one single Excursion, nor secure
all the Ways at one Time, nor make a secure
Retreat to their Camp, nor send out to For-
age, or to get Wood or Water without Dan-
ger; whereas those in the Town enjoy all the
contrary Advantages; for by Means of the
Hills that lie beneath them all running one
into another with a great Number of little
Vallies between, they can at any Time issue
out of a sudden to attack the Enemy una-
wares, and surprize them whenever any im-
mediate Opportunity offers itself. Nor are
they less pleased with Bisseium, a Town of the
Marsians, prodigiously secured by the three
Rivers which meet there from different Quar-
ters, and very difficult of Access thro’ the
narrow Passes of the Vallies guarded all round
with steep and unpassable Mountains: so that
the Enemy can find no Place to fix a Camp
for a Siege, and can never guard all the Passes,
which are vastly convenient to those in the
Place for bringing in Provisions and Succours,

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and making Sallies. But let this suffice as to
mountainous Situations. But if you build your
City in a Plain, and according to the general
Practice on the Banks of a River, so perhaps as
to have the Stream run through the Middle of
the Town, you must have a Care that this
River does not come from the South, nor run
towards that Point: Because on one Side the
Damps, and on the other the Cold being en-
creased by the Vapours of the Water, will
come to you with double Violence and Un-
wholesomeness. But if the River flows with-
out the Compass of the Walls, you must take
a View of the Country round about, and con-
sider on which Side the Winds have the freest
Passage, that you may there erect a sufficient
Wall to restrain the River within its Limits.

As for other Precautions, it may not be amiss
to consider what the Mariners tell us; to
wit, that the Winds are naturally inclined to
follow the Sun and the Eastern Breezes, when
the Physicians observe, that those of the Morn-
ing are the purest, and those of the Evening
the most damp: Whereas on the Contrary when
they blow from the West they are heaviest at
Sun-rise, and lightest at Sun-set. For these
Reasons the best Position for a City will be to
have the River come in from the East, and
go out towards the West; because then that
Breeze or gentle Wind which rises with the
Sun, will carry the Vapours out of the City,
if any noxious ones should arise, or at least it
will not encrease them itself: However, I
would rather have a River, Lake, or any other
Water extend to the North than to the South,
provided the Town do not stand under the Sha-
dow of a Mountain, which is the worst Situation
in the World. I will not repeat what we have
said before, and we know that the South Wind
is very heavy and slow in its Nature, insomuch

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that when the Sails of a Ship are filled with
it, the Vessel seems oppressed with its Weight,
and draws more Water; whereas, the
North Wind on the contrary seems to lighten
the Ship and the Sea too: however, it is better
to keep both these at a Distance, than to have
them continually beating against the Wall.

Nothing is more condemned than a River flow-
ing under high steep Banks, with a very deep
stony Channel, and always shaded; because its
Water is unwholsome to drink, and the Air upon
it dangerous: And to avoid settling near Bogs
and Marshes, or standing muddy Waters is the
Part of every prudent considerate Builder. I
need not mention here the Diseases occasion’ d
by such Neighbourhoods: We need only ob-
serve of these Places, that besides the common
Nuisances in Summer of ill Smells, Fleas and
other nasty Vermin, they are liable to one
great Inconvenience besides, when you imagine
the Air to be wholesomest and clearest (which
we also took Notice of in relation to all
Plains) that they are Subject to excessive Colds
in Winter and excessive Pleats in Summer.

Lastly, we must be very sure that none of these,
whether Hill, Rock, Lake, Bog, River or Well,
or the like, may be so disposed as to be likely
to strengthen or support an Enemy, or to bring
any Manner of Inconveniencies upon your own
Citizens. And this is as much as is necessary
with Regard to the Region and Situation.

CHAP. III.

Of the Compass, Space and Bigness of the City, of the Form and Disposition
of the Walls and Fortifications, and of the Customs and Ceremonies ob-
served by the Ancients in marking them out.

It is certain the Form of the City and the
Distribution of its Parts must be various

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according to the Variety of Places; since we
see it is impossible upon a Hill to lay out an
Area whether round or square, or of any other
regular Form, with that Ease, that you may
upon an open Plain. The ancient Architects
in encompassing their Towns with Walls, con-
demn’ d all Angles jutting out from the naked
of the Wall, as thinking they help the Enemy
more in their Assault than the Inhabitants in
their Defence; and that they were very weak
against the Shocks of military Engines; and
indeed for Treacheries, and for the safer
throwing their Darts they are of some Ad-
vantage to the Enemy, especially where they
can run up to the Walls, and withdraw again
immediately to their Camp; but yet they are
sometimes of very great Service in Towns
seated upon Hills, if they are set just answering

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to the Streets. At the famous City Perusia,
which has several little Towers placed here
and there upon the Hills, like the Fingers of
a Man’ s Hand extending out, if the Enemy
offers to attack one of the Angles with a good
Number of Men, he can find no Place to be-
gin his Assault, and being obliged to march
under those Towers, is not able to withstand
the Weapons that will be cast, and the Sallies
made upon him. So that the same Method
for walling of Towns will not serve in all Pla-
ces. Moreover the Ancients lay it down for
a Rule, that Cities and Ships should by no
means be either so big as to look empty, nor
so little as to be crowded. Others arc for hav-
ing their Towns full and close, believing that
it adds to their Safety: Others, feeding them-
selves with great Hopes of Times to come, de-
light in having a vast deal of Room: Others,
perhaps, have an Eye to the Fame and Ho-
nour of Posterity. The City of the Sun, built
by Busiris, and call’ d Thebes, as Histories in-
form us, was twenty Miles in Circuit; Mem-
phis, eighteen Miles, six Furlongs; Babylon,
three and forty Miles, six Furlong; Nineveh,
threescore Miles; and some Towns enclosed
so much Ground, that even within the Walls
they could raise Provisions for the whole Year.
But, I think, there is a great deal of Wisdom
in the old Proverb, which tells us, that we
ought in all Things to avoid excess; though
if I were to commit an Error of either Side,

I should rather chuse that Proportion which
would allow of an Encrease of Citizens, than that
which is hardly sufficient to contain the present
Inhabitants. Add to this, that a City is not
built wholly for the Sake of Shelter, but ought
to be so contrived, that besides mere civil
Conveniencies there may be handsome Spaces
left for Squares, Courses for Chariots, Gardens,

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Places to take the Air in, for Swimming, and
the like, both for Ornament and Recreation.

WE read in the Ancients Varro , Plutarch
and others, that their Forefathers us’ d to
design the Walls of their Town with abundance
of religious Rites and Ceremonies. After the
repeated taking of Auspices they yoked a Bull
and a Cow together to draw a brazen Plough,
with which they traced out the Line that was
to be the Circuit of the Wall, the Cow being
placed on the Inside, and the Bull without.

The Fathers and Elders that were to dwell in
the Town followed the Plough, laying all the
Clods of Earth into the Furrow again inward,
so that none might lie scattering outward, and
when they came to those Places where the Gates
were to be, they lifted up the Plough and car-
ried it in their Hands, that the Groundsell of
the Gates might remain untouch’ d; and for
this Reason they esteem’ d the whole Circle of
the Wall to be sacred, all except the Gates,
which were by no means to be called so.

In the Days of Romulus, Dionysius of Hali-
carnassus, tells us, that the Fathers in Beginning
their Towns, used, after performing a Sacrisice,
to kindle Fires before their Tents, and to
make the People pass through them, believing
that they were purged and purified by the
Flame; and they held it unlawful to admit
any Body to this Ceremony that was polluted
or unclean. This is what we find to have
been the Custom of those Nations. In other
Places they used to mark out the Foundation
of their Walls by strowing all the Way a Dust
made of white Earth, which they called pure;
and Alexander, upon laying out the Town of
Pharos, for want of this Earth made use of
Meal. From these Ceremonies the Diviners

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took Occasion to foretell what should happen
in Times to come; for noting the Nativity, as
we may call it, of the City, and some Events
that seemed to have some Connection with it,
they imagined they might thence draw Pre-
dictions of its future Successes. The Hetrurians
too in the Books of their Ceremonies taught
this Art of foretelling the Fortune of Towns
from the Day of their Nativities; and this not
from the Observation of the Heavens, which
we mentioned in the Second Book, but from
Principles and Conjectures founded upon
present Circumstances. Censorinus informs us,
that the Method they taught was this: Such
Men as happened to be born the very same
Day that the City was begun, and lived the
Longest of any one born on that Day, were
reckoned by their Death to put a Period to the
first Age of that City; next, the longest Liver
of those that dwelt in the City; at that Time,
when they died concluded the second Age;
and so for the other Ages. Then they sup-
posed that the Gods generally sent Omens to
point out the Conclusion of each par ticular
Age. These were the Superstitions which
they taught; and they add that the Hetrurians
by these Prognosticks could certainly fix every
Age of their City, which they determined to
to be as follows; their first four Ages they
made an hundred Years each; the Fifth, an
hundred and Twenty-three; the Sixth, an
hundred and Twenty, and as many the

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Seventh; the Eighth was the Time they then
lived in under the Emperors, and the Ninth
was to come; and by these Prognosticks they
thought it no hard Matter to discover even the
Events of future Ages. They conjectured that
Rome should come to be Mistress of the World,
from this Symptom, namely, because a Man
born on the Day of her Foundation became in
Time her Master. And this Man, I find, was
Numa: for Plutarch insorms us, that on the
Nineteenth of April, Rome was begun, and
Numa born. But the Spartans gloried in ha-
ving no Walls at all about their City; for con-
fiding in the Valour and Fortitude of their
Citizens, they thought there was no Occasion
for any Fortification besides good Laws. The
/. Egyptians and Persians, on the contrary, en-
closed their Cities with the strongest Walls;
for not to mention others, Nineveh and Semi-
ramis made the Walls of their Towns so thick,
that two Chariots might pass upon the Top
abreast, and so high, that they were above an
hundred Cubits. Arrian relates that the Walls
of Tyre were an hundred and Fifty Foot high.
Some again have not been satisfied with one
Wall: The Carthaginians enclosed their City
with Three; and Herodotus writes that Deioces
fortisied his Town of Ecbatana, though it
was seated upon an Hill with Seven. Now
as it is certain that Walls are a very
powerful Defence both of our Persons and
Liberties, when the Enemy happens to be
superior either in Number or Fortune, I can-
not join in with those who are for having their
City quite naked without any Wall, neither
with such as seem to place all their Hopes of
Defence in their Wallalone. I agree with what
Plato observes, that every City stands con-
tinually exposed to the Danger of being brought
under Subjection; since, whether it be owing

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to Nature or Custom, neither publick Bodies
nor private Persons can ever set Bounds to their
insatiable Desire of getting and possessing still
more and more; from which one Source
arises all the Mischiefs of War. So that what
is there to be said against adding Security to
Security, and Fortification to Fortification?

From what has been already said, we may
conclude that of all Cities, the most Capacious
is the round One; and the most Secure, that
which is encompassed with Walls broken here
and there into Angles or Bastions jutting out at
certain Distances, as Tacitus insorms us Jeru-
salem was: Because it is certain, the Enemy
cannot come up to the Wall between two
Angles jutting out, without exposing them-
selves to very great Danger; nor can their
military Engines attack the Pleads of those
Angles with any Flopes of Success. But,
however, we should be sure to make use of all
the natural Advantages that offer themselves
for the Security of our Town or Fortification;
as we may observe the Ancients did, accor-
ding to the Opportunity or Necessity of the
Situation. Thus Antium, an ancient City of
the Latins, in order to embrace the Winding
of the Shore, appears from the old Ruins
which are left, to have been built of a very
great Length. Cairo, upon the Nile, is said
also to be a very long City. Palimbrota, a
City of India, belonging to the Grasii, as
Metasthenes informs us, was sixteen Miles long,
and three broad, running along the Side of the
River. We read that the Walls of Babylon
were square; and those of Memphis built in
Shape of a D. But whatever Shape is chosen
for the Walls, Vegetius thinks it sufficient for
Service, if they are so broad, that two armed
Soldiers posted there for Defence, may easily
pass without being in one anothers Way; and

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so high, that they cannot be scaled with Lad-
ders; and built so firm and strong, as not to
yield to the battering Rams and other En-
gines. The military Engines are of two Sorts;
one Sort arc those which break and demolish
the Wall by Battery; the other are such as
attack and undermine the Foundation, and so
bring down the Superstructure. Now the
greatest Security against both these, is not so
much a Wall as a good Ditch. The Wall is
of no Use in the last Case, unless its Founda-
tion lies under Water, or upon a solid Rock.

The Ditch ought to be very broad and very deep;
for then it will hinder the moveable Tortoise-
shell, Towers, or other such Machines from ap-
proaching the Wall; and when the Founda-
tion is under Water, or on a Rock, it will be in
vain to think of undermining it. It is a Dis-
pute among the military Men, whether it is
best for the Ditch to be full of Water, or to
be kept dry; but it is allow’ d, that the first
Thing to be consulted is, which is most for
the Health of the Inhabitants; and then some
say those Ditches are certainly best which are
so contrived, that if by the Force of Battery
any Part of the Wall is beaten into them, it
may be soon removed, and the Ditch kept
clear, that it may not be filled up, and so
make a Path for the Enemy.

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CHAP. IV.

Of the IV alls, Battlements, Towers, Cornishes and Gates, and the Timber— work
belonging to them.

But to return to the Walls. The Ancients
advise us to build them after this Man-
ner. Raise two Walls one within the other,
leaving between them a Space of twenty Foot,
which Space is to be fill’ d up with the Fai th
dug out of the Ditch, and well ramm’ d in;
and let these Walls be built in such a Manner,
that you may mount from the Level of the
City quite to the Top of the Battlements, by
an easy Ascent, as it were by Steps. Others
say, that the Earth which is dug out of the
Ditch, ought to be thrown without the Wall,
on the other Side of the Ditch, and there cast
up into a Rampart, and from the Bottom of
the Ditch a Wall should be run up, thick
and strong enough to support the Weight of the
aforesaid Earth which bears upon it. At a
Distance from this another Wall should be
raised in the Town, higher than the other, and
as far from it, as to leave Space enough for
the Soldiers to be drawn up, and to have
Room to fight in. Besides this, you should
between the principal Walls, and those within,
erect other Walls crossways from one to the
other, by the Help whereof, the principal
Walls may unite with those behind, and more
easily support the Weight of the Earth cast in
between them. But indeed for my Part, I am
best pleased with those Walls which are so
situated, that if they happen to be at length
demolished by the Force of Battery, they have
somewhat of a Plain at the Foot of them,
where they may lie and form a Kind of Ram-
part, and so be kept from filling up the Ditch
with their Ruins. In other Respects I am

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very well pleased with Vitruvius, who says
the Wall ought to be built thus: Within the
Body of the Wall we should lay a good many
Timbers of Olive-wood burnt, to the Intent
that the two Sides of the Walls being fastened
together by these wooden Bracers, the Work
may be the more durable. Such a Wall as this,
we are told by Thucydides, was made by the
Platceans, to defend themselves against the
People of the Morea, by whom they were be-
sieged; inasmuch as they mixed Timbers a-
rnong their Brick-work, and made a very stout
Fortification of it. And Ccesar informs us,
that in France most of their Walls were built
in this Manner: They laid Beams within the
Wall, and braced them together at equal Di-
stances, filling up the Vacancies with huge
Stones, so that one Beam never touched the
other; and so proceeded with several Courses
of Work in the same Method, till they raised
a Wall of a good considerable Fleight. This
Kind of Work was not unhandsome to the
Sight, and was a very strong Fortification, be-
cause the Stones secured it against Fire, and
the Timbers against the Battering Rams. But
this mix’ d Work others disapprove of; because
they say the Lime and the Wood will not
long agree together, for Timber is eaten and
burnt up both by the Saltness and Fleat of the
Lime. Besides that, if the Wall should hap-
pen to be demolish’ d by Battery, they say,
that as it is thus made in a Manner all of one
Piece, the whole Wall will be apt to go all
together at once. In my Opinion one very
good Way of Building a strong Wall, capable
to stand the Shocks of Engines, is this: make tri-
angular Projections out from the naked of the
Wall, with one Angle facing the Enemy, at the
Distance of every ten Cubits, and turn Arches
from one Projection to the other; then fill up the

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Vacancies between them with Straw and Earth,
well rammed down together. By this Means
the Force and Violence of the Shocks of the
Engines, will be deadened by the Softness of the
Earth, and the Wall will not be weakned by
the Battery, only here and there, and those
small Breaches, or rather Holes, that are made
in it, will presently be stopt up again. In Sicily,
their Pumice-stones, which they have in great
Plenty, will do extreamly well for this Kind of
Work: But in other Places, for want of Pu-
mice-stones and Earth, any soft Stone may
be made use of; nor is Teirass amiss for this
Puipose. Lastly, if any Part of such a Struc-
ture stands exposed to the most southerly
Winds, or nocturnal Vapours, cloath and face
it with a Shell of Stone. And particularly it
will be of great Service to let the outer Bank
of the Ditch have a good Slope, and lie a

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pretty deal higher than the Ground beyond
it: For this will baulk the Aim of the mili-
tary Engines, and make them throw over the
Wall. And some think no Wall is so safe
against Battery, as those which are built in un-
even Lines, like the Teeth of a Saw.

I AM very well pleased with those Walls in
Rome, which at about halfWay up to the
Top have a Walk with little private Floles,
out of which, the Archers may privately annoy
the Enemy, as he moves about the Field in
Security; and at the Distance of every fifty
Cubits are Towers, adjoining to the Wall like
Buttresses, projecting out in a round Figure
forwards, and somewhat higher than the Wall
itself; so that whoever offers to approach be-
tween these Towers, is exposed to be taken in
Flank and slain; and thus the Wall is de-
fended by these Towers, and the Towers
mutually by one another. The Back of the
Towers, which look into the Town, ought to
have no Wall, but should be left quite open
and naked; that if the Enemy should get
Possession of them, they may not be safe in
them from the Assaults of the Inhabitants.

THE Cornishes of the Towers and Walls,
besides that they add to their Beauty, and are
a Ligature to strengthen their Work, do also
by their Projection hinder the getting into the
Town from scaling Ladders. Some are for
leaving Precipices of deep Holes here and there
along the Side of the Wall, and especially near
the Towers, sortified with wooden Bridges
which may be presently raised or let down, as
Occasion requires.

THE Ancients used on each Side of their
Gates to erect two Towers, larger than the

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rest, and strongly fortified on all Sides, to se-
cure and protect the Entrance into the Town.

There ought to be no Rooms with vaulted
Roofs in the Towers, but only wooden Floors,
that upon any Emergency may easily be re-
moved or burnt; and those Floors should not
be fastened with Nails, that if the Enemy gets
the better, they may be taken away without
Difficulty. All that is necessary is to have a
Covering to shelter the Centinels from the
Storms and Injuries of the Weather. The
Battlements over the Gate should have Holes
through the Bottom of them, through which.

Stones and Firebrands may be thrown down
upon the Enemy’ s Heads, or even Water, if
they have set Fire to the Gate; which for its
Security against such a Misfortune, they tell us
ought to be covered over with Leather and
Plates of Iron. But of this, enough.

CHAP. V.

Of the Proportion, Fashion and Construction of great Ways, and private Ones.

In making our Gates we should observe, that
they ought to be just as many in Num-
ber as the Highways, or Streets; for some we
shall call High Streets, and others, private ones.

Not that I intend to trouble my self about the
Distinction of the Lawyers, who say that the
Road for Beasts, and the Way for Men, ought
to be called by different Names: But by the
Name of Way, I shall understand them all.

The Highways are properly those by which
we go into the Provinces, with our Armies
and all their Baggage; for which Reason the
Highways ought to be much broader than
others, and I find the Ancients seldom used
to make them less than eight Cubits in any
Part. By a Law in the twelve Tables it was

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ordained, that the Ways which ran strait
should be twelve Foot broad, and those which
were crooked or winding, not less than sixteen.
The private Ways are those which leaving the
publick ones, lead us to some Town or Castle,
or else into some other Flighway, as Lanes in
Cities, and cross Roads in the Country. There
are another Kind of publick Ways, which may
not improperly be called Fligh Streets, as are
such which are designed for some certain Pur-
pose, especially any publick one; as for In-
stance, those which lead to some Temple, or
to the Course for Races, or to a Place of
Justice. The Ways are not to be made in the
same Manner in the Country, that they are in
the City. In the Country they ought to be
spacious and open, so as a Man may see all
about him; free and clear from all Manner
of Impediments, either of Water or Ruins;
without lurking Places or Retreats of any Sort
for Rogues to hide themselves in, nor too
many cross Roads to favour their Villanies:
Lastly, they ought to be as strait, and as short as
possible: I do not reckon the shortest Way to be

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always that which is the straitest, but that which
is the sasest: I would rather chuse to have it
somewhat the longer, than to have it inconveni-
ent. Some think the Country of Piperno the
most secure of any, because it is cut through
with deep Roads almost like Pits, doubtful at
the Entrance, uncertain in their Passage, and
unsafe upon Account of the Ground which lies
above them, from whence any Enemy may be
prodigiously insested.

THE Men of best Experience think that
Way the most secure, which is carried over
the Backs of small Hills, made level. Next
to this are such as are made through the Fields
upon a high raised Bank, according to the
Manner of the Ancients, who indeed upon
that Account gave them the Name of Aggeres,
or Highways. And it is certain such raised
Causeys have a vast many Conveniences: It
relieves the Traveller from the Fatigue and
Vexation of his Journey, to enjoy a fine Pros-
pect from the Heighth of the Causey all the
Way as he travels; besides that, it is a great
Convenience to be able to perceive an Enemy
at a good Distance, and to have such an Ad-
vantage as either to be able to repel them
with a small Force, or to retire without Loss,
if you find they are the stronger. There is a
great Convenience, not at all foreign to our
Puipose, which I have observed in the Road
that goes to the Port of Ostia. As there is a
vast Concourse of People, and great Quantities
of Merchandize brought thither from A Egypt ,
Africa, Lybia, Spain, Germany, and the Isl-
ands, the Road is made double, and in the
Middle of it is a Row of Stones, standing up
a Foot high like Terms to direct the Passen-
gers to go on one Side, and return on the other,
so to avoid the Inconvenience of meeting one

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another.

To conclude, such should be the Ways out
of the City; short, strait, and secure. When
they come to the Town, if the City is noble
and powerful, the Streets should be strait and
broad, which carries an Air of Greatness and
Majesty; but if it is only a small Town or a
Fortification, it will be better, and as safe, not
for the Streets to run strait to the Gates; but
to have them wind about sometimes to the
Right, sometimes to the Left, near the Wall,
and especially under the Towers upon the
Wall; and within the Heart of the Town, it
will be handsomer not to have them strait,
but winding about several Ways, backwards
and sorwards, like the Coarse of a River. For
thus, besides that by appearing so much the lon-
ger, they will add to the Idea of the Greatness
of the Town, they will likewise conduce very
much to Beauty and Convenience, and be a
greater Security against all Accidents and
Emergencies. Moreover, this winding of the
Streets will make the Passenger at every Step
discover a new Structure, and the Front and
Door of every House will directly face the
Middle of the Street; and whereas in larger
Towns even too much Breadth is unhandsome
and unhealthy, in a small one it will be both
healthy and pleasant, to have such an open
View from every House by Means of the
Turn of the Street.

Cornelius Tacitus writes, that Nero having
widened the Streets of Rome, thereby made the
City hotter, and therefore less healthy; but in
other Places, where the Streets are narrow, the
Air is crude and raw, and there is a continual
Shade even in Summer. But further; in our
winding Streets there will be no House but

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what, in some Part of the Day, will enjoy
some Sun; nor will they ever be without
gentle Breezes, which whatever Corner they
come from, will never want a free and clear
Passage; and yet they will not be molested
by stormy Blasts, because such will be broken
by the turning of the Streets. Add to all
these Advantages, that if the Enemy gets into
the Town, he will be in Danger on every Side,
in Front, in Flank, and in Rear, from Assaults
from the Houses. So much for the publick
Streets. The private ones should be like the
publick; unless there be this Difference, that
they be built exactly in strait Fines, which will
answer better to the Corners of the Building,
and the Divisions and Parts of the Houses.

The Ancients in all Towns were for having
some intricate Ways and turn- again Streets,
without any Passage through them, that if an
Enemy comes into them, he may be at a Foss,
and be in Confusion and Suspence; or if he
pushes on daringly, may be easily destroyed.

It is also proper to have smaller short Streets,
running cross from one great Street to another;
not to be as a direct publick Way, but only
as a Passage to some House that fronts it;
which will both give Fight to the Houses, and
make it more difficult for an Enemy to over-
run all Parts of the Town.

que Curtins writes that Babylon was divided
into a great Number of separate Quarters, and

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that the Buildings there did not joyn one to
ano her. Plato, on the contrary, is so far from
approving of those Separations, that he would
have the Houses all close contiguous, and
that the joyning together of their Walls should
make a Wall to the City.

CHAP. VI.

Of Bridges both of Wood and Stone, their proper Situation, their Peers,
Arches, Angles, Feet, Key— stones, Cramps, Pavements, and Slopes.

The Bridge, no doubt, is a main Part
of the Street; nor is every Paid of the
City proper for a Bridge; for besides that it
is inconvenient to place it in a remote Corner
of the Town, where it can be of Use but to
few, and that it ought to be in the very Heart
of the City, to lie at hand for every body; it
ought certainly to be contrived in a Place
where it may easily be erected, and without
too gi’cat an Expence, and where it is likely
to be the most durable. We should therefore
chuse a Ford where the Water is not too deep;
where the Shore is not too steep; which is
not uncertain and moveable, but constant
and lasting. We should avoid all Whirl-
pools, Eddies, Gulphs, and the like Inconve-
niences common in bad Rivers. We should
also most carefully avoid all Elbows, where the
Water takes a Turn; for very many Reasons;
the Banks in such Places being very liable to
be broken, as we see by Experience, and be-
cause Pieces of Timber, Trunks of Trees, and
the like, brought down from the Country by
Storms and Floods, cannot swim down such
Elbows in a strait Line, but turn aslant, meet
and hinder one another, and lodging against
the Piles grow into a great Heap, which stops
up the Arches, and with the additional

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Weight of the Water at length quite breaks
them down.

OF Bridges, some are of Stone, others of
Wood. We shall speak first of those which
are of Wood, as the most easy of Execution;
next we shall treat of those which are built of
Stone. Both ought to be as strong as possible;
that therefore which is built of Wood, must
be fortified with a good Quantity of the

strongest Timbers. We cannot give a better
Example of this Sort of Bridges than that built
by fulius Ccesar , which he gives us a Descrip-
tion of himself, as follows: Fie fastened to-
gether two Timbers, leaving a Distance be-
tween them of two Foot; their Length was
proportioned to the Depth of the River, and
they were a Foot and an half thick, and cut
shaip at the Ends. These he let down into
the River with Cranes, and drove them well in
with a Sort of Rammers, not perpendicularly
down like Piles, but slanting upwards, and
giving Way according to the Current of the
River. Then, opposite to these, he drove in
two others, fastened together in the same Man-
ner, with a Distance between them at Bottom
of forty Foot, slanting contrary to the Force
and Current of the Stream. When these were
thus fixed, he laid across from one to the other,

Beams of the Thickness of two Foot, which
was the Distance left between the Timbers
drove down; and fastened these Beams at the
End, each with two Braces, which being
bound round and fastened of opposite Sides,
the Strength of the whole Work was so great
and of such a Nature, that the greater the
Force of Water was which bore against it,
the closer and firmer the Beams united. Over
these other Beams were laid across and fastened

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to them, and a Floor, as we may call it, made
over them with Poles and Flurdles. At the
same Time, in the lower Paid of the River,
below the Bridge, other Timbers, or sloping
Piles, were driven down, which being fastened
to the rest of the Structure, should be a Kind
of Buttress to resist the Force of the Stream;
and other Piles were also driven in at a small
Distance above the Bridge, and standing some-
what above the Water, that if the Enemy
should send Trunks of Trees, or Vessels, down
the Stream, in order to break the Bridge, those
Piles might receive and intercept their Vio-
lence, and prevent their doing any Prejudice
to the Work. All this we learn from Ccesar.

Nor is it foreign to our Puipose to take Notice
of what is practiced at Verona , where they
pave their wooden Bridges with Bars of Iron,
especially where the Wheels of Carts and Wag-
gons are to pass. It remains now that we

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  • PLATE 9. (Page 76)

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treat of the Stone-Bridge, the Parts whereof
are these: The Banks of the Shore, the Piers,
the Arches, and the Pavement. Between the
Banks of the Shore and the Piers, is this Diffe-
rence, that the Banks ought to be by much the
strongest, inasmuch as they are not only to sup-
port the Weight of the Arches like the Piers,
but are also to bear – the Foot of the Bridge, and
to bear against the Weight of the Arches, to
keep them from opening in any Part. We
ought therefore to be very careful in the Choice
of our Shore, and to find out, if possible, a
Rock of solid Stone, since nothing can be too
strong that we are to intrust with the Feet of
the Bridge; and as to the Piers, they must be
more or less numerous in Proportion to the
Breadth of the River. An odd Number of Ar-
ches is both most pleasant to the Sight, and
conduces also to Strength; for the farther the
Current of the River lies from the Shore, the
freer it is from Impediment, and the freer
it is the swifter and easier it flows away;
for this therefore we ought to leave a Passage
perfectly free and open, that it may not shake
and prejudice the Piers by struggling with the
Resistance which it meets with from them.

The Piers ought to be placed in those Parts of
the River, where the Water flows the most
slowly, and (to use such an Expression) the
most lazily: And those Parts you may easily
find out by means of the Tides: Otherwise
you may discover them in the following Man-
ner: Imitate those who threw Nuts into a
River, whereby the Inhabitants of a Town be-
sieged, gathering them up, were preserved
from starving; strew the whole Breadth of the
River, about fifteen hundred Paces above the
Place which you intend for your Bridge, and
especially when the River is fullest, with some
such light Stuff that will easily float: And in

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those Places where the Things you have
thrown in Clusters thickest together, you may
be sure the Current is strongest. In the Situ-
ation of your Piers therefore avoid those Places,
and chuse those others to which the Things
you throw in come the slowest and thinnest.

KING Mina , when he intended to build the
Bridge of Memphis, turned the Nile out of its
Channel, and earned it another Way among
some Hills, and when he had finished his Build-
ing brought it back again into its old Bed.

Nicore Queen of the Assyrians, having pre-
pared all the Materials for building a Bridge,
dug a great Lake, and into that turned the
River; and as the Channel grew dry as the
Lake filled, she took that Time to build her
Piers. These mighty Things were done by
those great Princes: As for us, we are to pro-
ceed in the following Manner: Make the
Foundations of your Piers in Autumn, when
the Water is lowest, having first raised an In-
closure to keep off the Water, which you may
do in this Manner: Drive in a double Row of
Stakes, very close and thick set, with their
Heads above the Top of the Water, like a
Trench; then put Hurdles within this double
Row of Stakes, close to that Side of the Row
which is next the intended Pier, and fill up
the Hollow between the two Rows with Rushes
and Mud, ramming them together so hard
that no Water can possibly get through. Then
whatever you find within this Inclosure, Water,
Mud, Sand, and whatever else is a Hindrance
to you, throw out. For the rest of your Work,
you must observe the Rules we have laid down
in the preceding Book. Dig till you come to
a solid Foundation, or rather make one of
Piles burnt at the End, and driven in as close
together as ever they can stick. And here I

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have observed that the best Architects used to
make a continued Foundation of the whole
Length of the Bridge, and not only under each
Pier; and this they did, not by shutting out
the whole River at once by one single Inclo-
sure, but by first making one Part, then another,
and so joyning the whole together by degrees;
for it would be impossible to withstand and
repulse the whole Force of the Water at once;
we must therefore, while we are at work with
one Part, leave another Part open, for a Pas-
sage for the Stream.

YOU may leave these Passages either in the
Channel itself, or if you think it more conve-
nient, you may frame wooden Dams, or hang-
ing Channels, by which the superfluous Wa-
ter may run off. But if you find the Expence
of a continued Foundation for the whole Bridge
too great, you may only make a separate Foun-
dation for every particular Pier, in the Form
of a Ship with one Angle in the Stern, and an-
other in the Flead, lying directly even with the
Current of the Water, that the Force of the
Water may be broken by the Angle. We are
to remember that the Water is much more
dangerous to the Stern, than to the Flead of
the Piers, which appears from this, that at
the Stern the Water is in a more violent Mo-
tion than at the Flead, and forms Eddies,
which turn up the Ground at the Bottom;
while the Flead stands firm and safe, being
guarded and defended by the Banks of Sand
thrown up before it by the Channel. Now

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this being so, this Part ought of the whole
Structure to be best fortified against the
Violence of the Waters; and nothing will
conduce more to this, than to make the Pile-
work deep and broad every Way, and especi-
ally at the Stern, that if any Accidents should
cany away any of the Piles, there may be enow
lest to sustain the Weight of the Pier. It will
be also extremely proper to begin your Foun-
dation at the upper Part of the Channel, and
to make it with an easy Descent, that the
Water which runs over it may not fall upon
it violently as into a Precipice, but glide over
gently, with an easy Slope; because the Water
that rushes down precipitately, routs up the
Bottom, and so being made still rougher canies
away every Thing that it can loosen, and is
every Moment undermining the Work.

BUILD the Piers of the biggest and longest
Stones, and of such as in their Nature are best
adapted for supporting of Frosts, and as do
not decay in Water, nor are easily softened by
any Accident, and will not crack and split
under a great Weight; and build them ex-
actly according to the Square, Level and Plum-
line, omitting no Sort of Ligature Length-
ways, and placing the Stones Breadth-ways in
alternate Order, so as to be a Binding one to
another; absolutely rejecting any stuffing with
small Pieces of Stone. You must also fasten
your Work with a good Number of Brass
Cramps and Pins, so well fitted in, that the
Joynts of the Structure may not separate, but
be kept tight and firm. Raise both the Fronts
of the Building angular, both Plead and Stern,
and let the Top of the Pier be sure to be
higher than the fullest Tide; and let the Thick-
ness of the Pier be one fourth of the Fleighth
of the Bridge. There have been some that

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have not terminated the Head and Stern of
their Piers with an Angle, but with an half
Circle; induced thereto, I suppose, by the
Beautifulness of that Figure. But though I
have said elsewhere, that the Circle has the
same Strength as an Angle, yet here I approve
better of an Angle, provided it be not so sharp
as to be broken and defaced by every little Acci-
dent: Nor am I altogether displeased with those
which end in a Curve, provided it be very much
lengthened out, and not left so obtuse as to re-
sist the Force and Weight of the Water. The
Angle of the Pier is of a good Shaipness, if it
is three Quarters of a Right Angle, or if you
like it better, you may make it two thirds.

And thus much may suffice as to the Piers. If
the Nature of your Situation is such, that the
Sides or Banks of the Shore are not as you
could wish; make them good in the some Man-
ner as you build your Piers, and indeed make
other Piers upon the Shore, and turn some
Arches even upon the dry Ground; to the
Intent, that if in Process of Time, by the con-
tinual washing of the Water, and the Force of
the Tides, any Part of the Bank should be
carried away, your Passage may still be pre-
served safe, by the Production of the Bridge
into the Land. The Arches ought upon all
Accounts, and particularly because of the con-
tinual violent shaking and Concussion of Carts
and other Carnages, to be extreamly stout and
strong. Besides, as sometimes you may be
obliged to draw immense Weights over them,
such as a Colossus, an Obelisk or the like; you
should provide against the Inconvenience which
happened to Scaurus, who when he was re-
moving that great Boundary Stone, alarmed all
the publick Officers, upon Account of the
Mischief that might ensue. For these Reasons,
a Bridge both in its Design, and in its whole

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Execution, should be well fitted to bear the
continual and violent Jars which it is to re-
ceive from Carriages. That Bridges ought to
be built of very large and stout Stones, is very
manifest by the Example of an Anvil, which,
if is hu ge and heavy, stands the Blows of the
Hammer unmoved; but if it is light, rebounds
and trembles at every Stroke. We have al-
ready said, that all vaulted Work consists of
Arches and Stuffing, and that the strongest of
all Arches is the Semi-circle. But if by the
Disposition of the Piers, the Semi-circle should
rise so high as to be inconvenient, we may
make use of the Scheme Arch, only taking
Care to make the last Piers on the Shore the
stronger and thicker. But whatever Sort of
Arch you vault your Bridge with, it must be
built of the hardest and largest Stones, such as
you use in your Piers; and there should not
be a single Stone in the Arch but what is in
Thickness at least one tenth Paid of the Chord
of that Arch; nor should the Chord itself be
longer than six Times the Thickness of the
Pier, nor shorter than four Times. The Stones
also should be strongly fastened together with
Pins and Cramps of Brass. And the last Wedge,
which is called the Key-stone, should be cut
according to the Lines of the other Wedges,
but left a small Matter bigger at the Top, so
that it may not be got into its Place without
some Strokes of a light Beetle; which will

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drive the lower Wedges closer together, and
so keep them tight to their Duty. The filling
up, or stuffing between the Arches should be
wrought with the strongest Stone, and with the
closest Joynts that can possibly be made. But
if you have not a sufficient Plenty of strong
Stone to make your Stuffing of it, you may in
Case of Necessity make use of a weaker Sort;
still provided that the whole Turn of the Arch,
and the Course of Work behind both the Sides
of it, be built entirely of strong Stone.

THE next Work it to pave the Bridge; and
here we should observe, that we ought to
make the Ground upon a Bridge as firm and
solid as the most durable Roads; we should
raise it with Gravel or coarse Sand, to the
Heighth of a Cubit, and then pave it with
Stone, filling up the Joints either with River
or Sea-sand. But the Substrature or Layer
under the Pavement of a Bridge ought first to
be levelled and raised quite to the Top of the
Arches; with regular Masonry, and then the
Pavement itself should be cemented with Mor-
tar. In all other Respects we should observe
the same Rules in paving a Bridge, as in pav-
ing a Road. The Sides should be made firm
with the strongest Work, and the rest paved
with Stones, neither so small as to be easily
raised and thrown out upon the least Strain;
nor so large, that the Beasts of Burden should
slide upon them as upon Ice, and fall before
they meet with any Catch for their Foot. And
certainly we must own it to be of very great
Importance what Kind of Stone we use in our
Pavements, if we consider how much they
must be worn by the continual grinding of
the Wheels, and the Hoofs of all Manner of
Cattle, when we see that even such small Ani-
mals as Ants, with constant passing up and

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down, will wear Traces even in Flints.

I FIAVE observed that the Ancients in many
Places, and particularly in the Way to Tivoli,
paved the Middle of the Road with Flints, and
only covered the Sides with small Gravel. This
they did, that the Wheels might make the less
Impression, and that the Florses Floofs might
not want sufficient Flold. In other Places, and
especially over Bridges, there was a raised Way
on each Side, with Stone Steps, for Foot Pas-
sengers; and the Middle of the Way was lest
for Beasts and Carriages. Lastly, the Ancients,
for this Sort of Work greatly commend Flints,
and especially those which are fullest of Floles;
not because such are the strongest, but because
they are the least slippery. But we may make
use of any Sort of Stone, according to what
we have in greatest Plenty, provided we only
use the strongest we can get, and with those
pave at least that Part of the Way which is
most beaten by Cattle; and the Part most
beaten by them is always most level, because
they always avoid all sloping Ground as much
as they can. Let the Middle and highest Part
of the Way be laid with Llints, or whatever
other Stone you use, of the Thickness of a
Loot and an half, and the Breadth of at least
a Loot, with the upper Pace even, and so close
compacted together that there are no Grevices
left in order to throw off the Rain. There
are three different Slopes for all Streets; either
towards the Middle, which is proper for a
broad Street, or to the Sides, which is least
Flindrance to a narrow one; or else Length-
ways. But in this we are to govern ourselves
according to the Conveniences and Advanta-
ges of our Drains and Currents, whether into
the Sea, Lake or River. A very good Rise
for a Slope is half an Inch in every three Loot.

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I have observed that the Rise with which the
Ancients used to build their Bridges, was one
Foot in every thirty; and in some Parts, as
particularly at the Summit of the Bridge, four
Inches in every Cubit or Foot and an half;
but this was only for so little a Way, that a
Beast heavy loaden could get over it at one
Strain.

CHAP. VII.

Of Drains or Sewers, their differen t Sorts and Uses; and of Rivers and
Canals for Ships.

Drains or Sewers are look’ d upon as
a Part of the Street, inasmuch as they
are to be made under the Street, thro’ the
Middle of it; and are of great Service, as well
in the paving and levelling, as in cleaning the
Streets; for which Reason they are by no
means to be neglected here. And indeed, may
we not very properly say that a Drain is a

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Bridge, or rather a very long Arch; so that
in the Construction of it we ought to observe
all the same Rules that we have just now been
laying down concerning Bridges. The Anci-
ents had so high a Notion of the Serviceable-
ness of Drains and Sewers, that they bestowed
no greater Care and Expence upon any Struc-
ture whatsoever, than they did upon them; and
among all the wonderful Buildings in the City
of Rome, the Drains are accounted the noblest.

I shall not spend Time to shew how many Con-
veniences arise from good Drains; how clean
they keep the City, and how neat all Buildings
both publick and private, or how much they
conduce to the Clearness and Healthiness of
the Air.

THE City of Smyrna, where Trebonius was
besieged and relieved by Dolabella, is said to have
been extremely beautiful, both for the Straitness
of the Streets, and its many noble Structures;
but not having Drains to receive and carry away
its own Filth, it offended the Inhabitants abo-
minable with ill Smells. Siena, a City in Tus-
cany, not having Drains wants a very great
Help to Cleanliness; by which Means the
Town not only stinks every Night and Morn-
ing, when People throw their Nastiness out of
the Windows, but even in the Day Time it is
seen lying about the Streets. Drains are of
two Sorts; one carries away the Filth into
some River, Lake or Sea; the other is a deep
Hole dug in the Ground, where the Nastiness
lies till it is consumed in the Bowels of the
Fai th. That which carries it away, ought
to have a smooth sloping Pavement, strong
compacted, that the Ordure may run off freely,
and that the Structure itself may not be rotted
by the Moisture lying continually soaking
upon it. It should also lie so high above the

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River, that no Floods or Tides may fill it with
Mud and choak it up. A Drain that is to
lie open and uncover’ d to the Air, need have
no other Pavement but the Ground itself; for
the Poets call the Earth Cerberus, and the Phi-
losophers, the Woolf of the Gods, because it de-
vours and consumes every Thing. So that
whatever Filth and Nastiness is brought into
it, the Earth rots and destroys it, and prevents
its emitting ill Steams. Sinks for the Recep-
tion of Urine, should be as far from the Flouse
as possible; because the Fleat of the Sun makes
it rot and smell intolerably. Moreover, I can-
not help thinking that Rivers and Canals, es-
pecially such as are for the Passage of Ships,
ought to be included under the Denomination
of Roads; since many are of Opinion, that
Ships are nothing but a Sort of Carriages, and
the Sea itself no more than a huge Road. But
there is no Necessity to say any thing more of
these in this Place. And if it happens that
the Conveniences we have here treated of, are
not found sufficient, our Business is to study
how to mend the Faults, and make whatever
other Additions are needful: The Method of
doing which, we shall speak of in due Time.

CHAP. VIII.

Of the proper Structure for a Haven, and of making convenient Squares in
the City.

Now if there is any other Part of the
City that falls in properly with the Sub-
ject of this Book, it is certainly the Haven,
which may be defined a Goal or proper Place
from whence you may begin a Voyage, or
where having performed it you may put an
End to the Fatigue of it, and take Repose.

Others perhaps would say that a Haven is a Sta-

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1

ble for Ships; but let it be what you will, ei-
ther a Goal, a Stable, or a Receptacle, it is cer-
tain that if the Business of a Haven is to give a
Reception to Ships out of the Violence of Storms,
it ought to be made in such a Manner as to be
a sufficient Shelter for that Puipose: Let its
Sid be strong and high, and let there be
Room enough for large Vessels heavy laden to
come in and lie quiet in it. Which Conveni-
ences, if they are offered to you by the natu-
ral Situation of the Place, you have nothing
more to wish for; unless, as at Athens where
Thucidides says there were three Havens made
by Nature, it should happen that you are
doubtful among such a Number, which to
chuse. But it is evident from what we have
already said in the first Book, that there are
some Places where all the Winds cannot be,
and others where some actually are continually
troublesome and dangerous. Let us therefore

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make Choice of that Haven into whose Mouth
none blow but the most gentle and temperate
Winds, and where you may enter or go out,
with the most easy Breezes, without being
forced to wait too long for them.

THEY say, that of all Winds the North is
the gentlest; and that when the Sea is di-
sturbed by this Wind, as soon as ever the
Wind ceases, it is calm again: But if a South-
wind raises a Storm, the Sea continues turbu-
lent a long while. But as Places are various,
our Business is to chuse such a one as is best
provided with all Conveniencies for Shipping:
we must be sure to have such a Depth, in the
Mouth, Bosern and Sides of the Haven, as
will nor refuse Ships of Burthen, though
ever so deep laden; the Bottom too ought to
be clear, and not sull of any Sort of Weeds:
Though, sometimes, thick entangled Weeds
are of a good deal of Use in fastening the An-
chor. Yet I should rather chuse an Haven
that does not produce any thing which can
contaminate the Purity of the Air, or preju-
dice the Ships, as Rushes and Weeds which
grow in the Water really do; for they en-
gender a great many Kinds of Worms which
get into the Timbers of the Vessel, and the
rotting of the Weeds raises unwholesome Va-
pours. There is another Thing which makes
an Haven noisome and unhealthy, and that is
a Mixture of fresh Water; especially Rain-
water that runs down from Hills: Though I
would be sure to have Streams and Springs in
the Neighbourhood, from whence, fresh Water
that will keep may be brought for the Use of
the Vessels. A Port also ought to have a clear,
strait and safe Passage outwards, with a Bot-
tom not often shifting, free from all Impedi-
ments, and secure from the Ambushes of Ene-

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1

mies and Pirates. Moreover. I would have
it covered with some high steep Hill, that may
be seen a great Way off, and serve as a Land-
mark for the Sailors to steer their Course by.
Within the Port we should make a Key and
a Bridge for the more easy unlading of the
Shipping. These Works the Ancients raised
in different Ways, which it is not yet our
Time to speak of; and we shall come to it
more properly when we speak of the Method
of improving a Haven and running up a Pier.
Besides all this, a good Haven should have
Places to walk in, and a Portico and Temple,
for the Reception of Persons that are just
landed; nor should it want Pillars, Bars and
Rings to fasten Ships to; and there should also
be a good Number of Warehouses or Vaults
for the laying up of Goods. We should also
at the Mouth erect high and strong Towers,
from the Lanterns of which we may spy what
Sails approach, and by Fires give Directions to
the Mariners, and which by their Fortificati-
ons may defend the Vessels of our Friends, and
lay Chains across the Port to keep out an
Enemy. And from the Port strait thro’ the
Heart of the City ought to run a large Street,
in which several other Quarters of the Town
should center, that the Inhabitants may pre-
sently run thither from all Parts to repulse any
Insult from an Enemy. Within the Bosom of
the Haven likewise, should be several smaller
Docks, where battered Vessels may refit. But
there is one Thing which we ought not to
omit, since it relates entirely to the Haven;
which is, that there have been, and now are,
many famous Cities, whose greatest Security
has lain in the unsafe and uncertain Entrance
of their Harbours, and from the Variety of its
Channels made almost hourly for the con-
tinual Alteration of the Bottom. Thus much

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we thought proper to say of publick Works in
the universal Acceptation; and I cannot tell
whether there is any Occasion to add what
some insist upon, that there ought to be se-
veral Squares laid out in different Parts of the
City, some for the exposing of Merchandizes
to sale in Time of Peace; others for the Exer-
cises proper for Youth; and others for laying
up Stores in Time of War, of Timber, For-
age, and the like Provisions necessary for the
sustaining of a Siege. As for Temples, Cha-
pels, Halls for the Administration of Justice,
and Places for Shows, they are Buildings that,
tho’ for publick Use, are yet the Property of
only a few Persons; which are the Priests
and Magistrates; and therefore we shall treat
of them in their proper Places.

The End of Book IV.

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1

THE

ARCHITECTURE

OF

Leone Batista Alberti.

BOOK V. CHAP. I.

Of Buildings for particular Persons. Of the Castles or Habitations of a
King or a Tyrant; their different Properties and Parts.

We shewed in the last Book, that
Buildings ought to be variously ac-
commodated, both in City and
Country, according to the Necessi-
ties of the Citizens and Inhabitants; and that
some belong’ d to the Citizens in common,
others to those of greater Quality, and others
to the meaner Sort; and finish’ d our Account
of those of the first Kind. The Design of this
fifth Book is to consider of the supplying the
Necessaries and Conveniencies for particular
Persons. And in this copious and difficult
Subject we shall make it our Study, to the ut-
most of our Ability and Industry, to omit
nothing really material or instructive, and not
to say any thing more for the Embellishment
of our Discourse than for the necessary Expla-
nation of our Subject. Let us begin therefore
with the noblest. The noblest are certainly
those who are entrusted with the supreme Au-
thority and Moderation in publick Affairs.

This is sometimes a single Person, and some-
times Many. If it is a single Person, that Per-
son ought certainly to be him that has the
greatest Merit. We shall therefore first con-
sider what is necessary to be done for one that
has the sole Power in himself. But we must
previously enquire into one very material Dif-
serence; what Kind of a Governour this is;
whether one that with Justice and Integrity

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rules over willing Subjects; one not guided so
much by his own Interest, as the Good and
Welfare of his People: or such a one as would
have Things so contrived with Relation to his
Subjects, that he may be able to continue his
Dominion over them, let them be ever so uneasy
under it. For the Generality of particular
Buildings, and the City itself ought to be laid
out differently for a Tyrant, from what they
are for those who enjoy and protect a Govern-
ment as if it were a Magistracy voluntarily put
into their Flands. A good King takes Care to
have his City strongly fortified in those Parts,
which are most liable to be assaulted by a foreign
Enemy: a Tyrant, having no less Danger to
fear from his Subjects than from Strangers, must
fortify his City no less against his own People,
than against Foreigners: and his Fortifications
must be so contrived, that upon Occasion he
may employ the Assistance of Strangers against
his own People, and of one Part of his People
against the other. In the preceding Book, we
shewed how a City ought to be fortified against
foreign Enemies: Fet us here consider how it is
to be provided against the Inhabitants them-
selves.

Euripides thinks the Multitude is naturally a
very powerful Enemy, and that if they added

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Cunning and Fraud to their Strength, they
would be irresistible. The politick Kings of
Cairo in a E gypt , a City so populous that they
thought it was extremely healthy and flourish-
ing, when no more than a thousand People died
in a Day, divided it by so many Cuts and Chan-
nels, that it seemed not to be one single City,
but a great Number of small Towns lying toge-
ther. This I suppose they did, not so much
that the Conveniencies of the River might be
equally distributed, as to secure themselves
against the popular Commotions of a great
Multitude, and that if any such should happen,
they might the more easily suppress them: just
as if a Man out of one huge Colossus, should
make two or more Statues, that he might be better
able to manage or remove them. The Romans
never used to send a Senator into A Egypt , with
Proconsular Authority, to govern the whole
Province; but only some Knights, with Com-
mission to govern separate Parts of it. And
this they did, as we are informed by Arrian, to
Intent that a Province so inclined to Tumults
and Innovations, might not be under the Care
of a single Person: and they observed that no
City was more exempt from Discord, than those
which were divided by Nature, either by a Ri-
ver flowing thro’ the Middle of it, or by a Num-
ber of little separate Hills; or by being built
one Part upon a Hill, and the other upon a
Plain, with a Wall between them. And this
Wall or Division, I think, ought not to bedrawn
like a Diameter clear thro’ the Area, but ought
rather to be made to enclose one Circle within
another: for the richer Sort, desiring a more
open Space and more Room, will easily consent
to be shut out of the inner Circle, and will be
very willing to leave the Middle of the Town,
to Cooks, Victuallers and other such Trades;
and all the scoundrel Rabble belonging to Te-

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rence’ s Parasite, Cooks, Bakers, Butchers and
the like, will be less dangerous there than if
they were not to live separate from the nobler
Citizens. Nor is it soreign to our Puipose
what we read in Festus, that Servius Tullius
commanded the Patricians to dwell in a cer-
tain Part of the Town, where if they offered
at any Disturbance, he was immediately ready
to quell them from a superior Situation. This
Wall within the City ought to run thro’ every
District of the Town; and it should be built so
strong and thick in all Respects, and be raised
so high (as indeed so ought all the other City
Walls) that it may overlook all the private
Houses. It should also be fortified with Bat-
tlements and Towers; and a good Ditch on
both Sides would not be amiss; that your Men
may the more easily defend it on any Side.

The Towers upon this Wall ought not to be
open on the Inside, but walled up quite round;
and they should be so seated as not only to re-
pulse the Assaults of a foreign Enemy, but of
Domestick one too upon Occasion; and particu-
larly they ought to command the great Streets,
and the Tops of all high Temples. I would
have no Passage into these Towers but from off
the Wall itself; nor any Way up to the
Wall but what is entirely in the Power of the
Prince. There should be no Arches nor Tow-
ers in the Streets that lead from the Fortress
into the City; nor Leads or Terrasses from
whence the Soldiers may be molested with
Stones or Darts as they pass to their Duty. In
a Word, the whole should be so contrived that
every Place, which any Way commands the
Town, should be in the Hands of the Prince;
and that it should not be in the Power of any
Person whatsoever, to prevent his Men from
over-running the whole City as he pleases.

And herein the City of a Tyrant differs from

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that of a King; and perhaps they differ too in
this, that a Town in a Plain is most conveni-
ent for a free People; but one upon a Hill the
safest sor a Tyrant. The other Edifices for
the Habitation both for King and Tyrant, are
not only the same in most respects, but also
differ very little from the Houses of private
Persons: And in some Particulars they differ
both from one another, and from these latter
too. We shall speak first of those Things
wherein they agree; and of their Peculiarities
afterwards. This Sort of Buildings is said to
have been invented only for Necessity: Yet
there are some Parts of them which serve be-
sides to Conveniency, that by Use and Habit
seem to be grown as necessary as any: Such as
Porticoes, Places for taking the Air in, and the
like: Which, though Method may seem to re-
quire it, I shall not distinguish so nicely, as to
divide what is convenient from what is neces-
sary: But shall only say, that as in the City it-
self, so in these Particular Structures, some
Parts belong to the whole Houshold, some to
the Uses of a few, and others to that of a single
Person.

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1

CHAP. II.

Of the Portico, Vestibule, Court— yard, Hall, Stairs, Lobbies, Apertures, Back-
doors, concealed Passages and private Apartments; and wherein the Houses
of Princes differ from those of private Men; as also of the separate and
common Apartments for the Prince and his Spouse.

I do not think the Portico and Vestibule
were made only for the Conveniency of
Servants, as Diodorus says; but rather for the
common Use of the Citizens: But Places for
walking in within the House, the inner Court-
yard, the Hall (which I believe took its Name
from Dancing, because Nuptials and Feasts
are celebrated in it) do not belong at all to the
Publick, but entirely to the Inhabitants. Par-
lours for eating in are of two Sorts, some for
the Master, and others for the Servants: Bed-
chambers are for the Matrons, Virgins, Guests,
and are to be separate for each. Of the uni-
versal Division of these, we have already treat-
ed in our first Book of Designs, as far as was
necessary under a general Title: We shall now
proceed to shew the Number of all these, their
Proportions, and proper Situations for the great-
est Convenience of the Inhabitants. The Por-
tico and Vestibule are adorned by the Noble-
ness of Entrance; the Entrance is adorned by
the View which it has before it, and by the
Magnificence of its Workmanship. Then the
inner Rooms for eating, laying up all Manner
of Necessaries, and the like, ought to be so
contrived and situated, that the Things pre-
served in them may be well kept, that there be
no want of Sun or Air, and that they have all
Manner of proper Conveniencies, and be kept
distinct, so that too great Familarity may not
lessen the Dignity, Conveniency or Pleasure of
Guests, nor encourage the Impertinence of
Persons that pay their Attendance to you.

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And indeed Vestibules, Halls, and the like
Places of publick Reception in Houses, ought
to be like Squares and other open Places in
Cities; not in a remote private Corner, but in
the Center and the most publick Place, where all
the other Members may readily meet: For here
all Lobbies and Stair-cases are to terminate;
here you meet and receive your Guests. More-
over, the House should not have above one
Entrance, to the Intent that nobody may come
in, nor any thing be carried out, without the
Knowledge of the Porter. Take Care too,
that the Windows and Doors do not lie handy
for Thieves, nor be so open to the Neighbours
that they can interrupt, or see or hear what is
said or done in the House. The Egyptians
built their private Houses without any Win-
dows outwards. Some perhaps may be for
having a Back-gate to which the Fruits of the
Harvest may be brought home, either in Carts
or on Horses, and not make a Nastiness before
the principal Entrance; as also a smaller pri-
vate Door, at which the Master of the House,
without the Knowledge of any of his Family,
may receive any private Messages or Advices,
and go out himself, as his Occasions call him.

I have nothing to say against these: And I am
entirely for having concealed Passages and pri-
vate and hidden Apartments, barely known to
the Master himself; where, upon any Misfor-
tune, he may hide his Plate and other Wealth,
or by which, if need be, he may escape him-
self. In David’ s Sepulchre there were several
private Places made for concealing the King’ s
Hereditary Treasures; and they were contriv-
ed so cunningly, that it was hardly possible to
find them out. Out of one of these Places,
Josephus informs us, that Hircanus, the High
Priest, thirteen hundred Years afterwards, took
three thousand Talents of Gold (which makes

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eighteen hundred thousand Italian Crowns) to
free the City from Antiochus’ s Siege: And out
of another of them, Herod , a long Time after
that, got a vast Quantity of Gold. In these
Things therefore the Houses of Princes agree
with those of private Persons. The chief Dif-
ference between private Houses and Palaces is,
that there is a particular Air suitable to each:

In the Latter the Rooms designed for the Re-
ception of Company should be more numerous
and spacious; those which are intended only
for the Use of a Few, or only of one Person,
should be rather neat than large: But here
again a Palace should differ from the House
of a private Person, and even these private A-
partments should be made more spacious and
large, because all Parts of a Prince’ s Palace are

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generally crowded. In private Houses, those
Parts which are for the Reception of many,
should not be made at all different from those
of a Prince; and the Apartments should be
kept distinct for the Wife, for the Husband,
and for the Servants; and every thing is not
to be contrived merely for Conveniency, but
for Grandeur too, and so, that the Number of
Servants may not breed any Confusion. All
this indeed is very difficult, and hardly possi-
ble to be done under a single Roof: therefore
every Member of the House must have its par-
ticular – Area and Platform, and have a distinct
Covering and Wall of its own: but then all
the Members should be so joined together by
the Roof and by Lobbies, that the Servants,
when they are wanted about their Business,
may not be called, as it were, out of another
House, but be always ready at Hand. Children
and Maids, among whom there is an eternal
Chattering, should be entirely separated from
the Master’ s Apartment, and so should the
Dirtiness of the Servants. The Apartments
where Princes are to eat should be in the no-
blest Part of the Palace; it should stand high,
and command a fine Prospect of Sea, Hills,
and wide Views, which gives it an Air of
Greatness. The House for his Spouse should
be entirely separated from that of the Prince
her Husband, except only in the last Apart-
ment or Bed-chamber, which should be in
common between both; but then a single Gate,
under the Care of the same Porter, should
serve both their Houses. The other Particu-
lars wherein the Houses of Princes differ from
those of private Persons, are such as are in a
Manner peculiar – to these latter; and therefore
we shall speak of them in their Place. The
Houses of Princes agree with one another in an-
other Respect; which is, that besides those

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Conveniencies which they ought to have for
their private Use, they should have an Entrance
from the Master Way, and especially from the
Sea or River; and instead of a Vestibule, they
should have a large open Area, big enough to
receive the Train of an Ambassador, or any
other Great Man, whether they come in
Coaches, in Barks, or on Horseback.

CHAP. III.

Of the Properties of the Portico, Lobby, Halls, both for Summer and Winter,
Watch-Towers, and the Difference between the Castle for a Tyrant, and the
Palace for a King.

I would have the Portico be not only a con-
venient Covering for Men, but for Beasts
also, to shelter them from Sun or Rain. Just
before the Vestibule nothing can be nobler
than a handsome Portico, where the Youth,
waiting till their old Gentlemen return from
transacting Business with the Prince, may em-
ploy themselves in all Manner of Exercise,

Leaping, Tennis, Throwing of Stones, or
Wrestling. Next within should be a handsome
Lobby, or a large Hall; where the Clients
waiting for their Patrons, may converse toge-
ther; and where the Prince’ s Seat may be pre-
pared for his giving his Decrees. Wherein this
there must be another Hall, where the principal
Men in the State may assemble themselves to-
gether in order to salute their Prince, and to give
their Thoughts concerning whatsoever he questi-
ons them about: Perhaps it may not be amiss to
have two of those, one for Summer and ano-
ther for Winter; and in the Contrivance of them,
particular’ Regard must be had to the great Age
of the Fathers that are to meet in them, that
there be no Inconveniencies in them which may
any way endanger their Health, and that they

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may stay in them as long as their Business re-
quires, with Safety and Pleasure. We are told
by Seneca , that Gracchus first, and afterwards
Drusus , contrived not to give Audience to
every body in the same Place, but to make
proper Distinctions among the Crowd, and to
receive some in private, others in select Num-
bers, and the Rest in publick, to shew which
had the first, and which only the second Share
in their Friendship. If you are in the same
high Rank of Fortune, and this Manner of
Proceeding either becomes or pleases you, the
best Way will be to have several Doors to re-
ceive your Friends at, by which you may dis-
miss those that have had Audience, and keep
out such as you don’ t care to grant it to, with-
out giving them too much Offence. At the
Top of the Flouse there should be a high
Watch-Tower, from whence you may at any

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Time see any Commotion in the City. In these
Particulars the Palace of a King and of a Ty-
rant agree; but then they differ in these
other. The Palace of a King should stand in
the Heart of a City, it should be easy of Access,
beautisully adorned, and rather delicate and
polite than proud or stately: But a Tyrant
should have rather a Castle than a Palace, and
it should stand in a Manner out of the City and
in it at the same Time. It looks noble to have
the Palace of a King be near adjoyning to the
Theatre, the Temple, and some Noblemens
handsome Houses: The Tyrant must have his
Castle entirely separated from all other Build-
ings. Both should be built in a handsome and
noble Manner, but yet so that the Palace may
not be so large and rambling as to be not easily
defended against any Insult; nor the Castle so
close and so crampt up, as to look more like a
Jail than the Residence of a great Prince.

We should not omit one Contrivance very con-
venient for a Tyrant, which is to have some
private Pipes concealed within the Body of the
Wall, by which he may secretly hear every
Thing that is said either by Strangers or Ser-
vants. But as a Royal House is different from
a Fortress in almost all Respects, and especial-
ly in the main Ones, the best Way is to let the
Palace join to the Fortress. The Ancients
used to build their Fortress in the City, that to
they or their King might have a Place to fly
to in any Time of Adversity, and where the Vir-
tue of their Virgins and Matrons might be
protected by the Holiness of a Sanctuary: For
Festus tells us, that the Ancients used to con-
secrate their Fortresses to Religion, upon which
Account they were called Auguriales, and that
in them a certain Sacrifice used to be perform-
ed by Virgins, which was extremely secret and
entirely remote from the Knowledge of the

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Vulgar. Accordingly you seldom meet with
an ancient Fortress without its Temple. But
Tyrants afterwards usurped the Fortress to
themselves, and overthrew the Piety and Reli-
gion of the Place, converting it to their cruel
and wicked Purposes, and so made what was
designed as a Refuge to the Miserable, a Source
of Miseries. But, to return. The Fortress be-
longing to the Temple of Jupiter Hammon
was encompassed with three Walls; the first
Fortification was for the Prince, the second for
his Spouse and her Children, and the last was
the Post of the Soldiers. A Stucture very well
contrived, only that it was much better adapt-
ed for Defence than Offence. I must confess
that as I cannot say much for the Valour of a
Soldier that only knows how to repulse an E-
nemy that assaults him, so I cannot much
commend a Fort that, besides being able to
defend itself, is not also well disposed for of-
fending its Enemies. But yet you should con-
trive the Matter so, that though you have both
those Advantages, you should seem to have had
an Eye only to one of them, namely, your own
Defence; that it may be thought the other
happened only from the Situation and Nature
of the Building.

CHAP. IV.

Of the proper Situation, Structure and Fortification of a Fortress, whether in
a Plain, or upon a Hill, its Inclosure, Area, Walls, Ditches, Bridges, and
Towers.

I find that even Men of good Experience in
military Affairs, are in Doubt which is the
best and strongest Manner of building a For-
tress, either upon a Hill or Plain. There is
scarce any Hill but what may be either at-
tacked or undermined; nor any Plain but

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what may be so well fortified that it shall be
impossible to assault it without great Danger.
But I shall not dispute about this Question.

Our Business is to contrive every Thing suita-
bly to the Nature of the Place; and indeed all
the Rules which we have laid down for the
building a City, should be observed in the
building a Fortress. The Fortress particular-
ly should be sure to have even and direct
Streets, by which the Garrison may march to
attack an Enemy, or in Case of Sedition or
Treachery, their own Citizens and Inhabitants,
and bring in Succours, either out of their own
Country or from Abroad, without Impedi-
ment, by Land, River, Lake, or Sea. One
very good Lorm for the Area of a Lortress, is
that of a C joining to all the City Walls as to
a round O with bending Florns, but not en-

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compassing them quite round; as is also that
which is shaped like a Star with Rays running
out to the Circumference; and thus the For-
tress will be, as we before observed it ought,
neither within nor without the City. If we
were to give a brief Description of the Fortress,
or Citadel, it might perhaps be not amiss to
say that it is the Back-door to the City strong-
ly sortified on all Sides. But let it be what it
will, whether the Crown of the Wall, or the
Key to the City, it ought to look fierce, ter-
rible, rugged, dangerous, and unconquerable;
and the less it is, the sponger it will be. A
small one will require the Fidelity only of a
few, but a large one that of a great many:

And, as Euripides says, there never was a Mul-
titude without a great many dangerous Spirits
in it; so that in the Case before us, the Fewer
we have occasion to trust, the Safer we shall be.
The outward Wall, or Inclosure of the For-
tress should be built very strong, of large
Stone, with a good Slope on the Outside, that
the Ladders set against it may be weakened by
their standing too oblique; and that the Ene-
my who Assaults it and endeavours to scale it,
may lie entirely open to the Stones thrown
down upon him; and that Things cast at the
Wall by the military Engines may not strike
it full, but be thrown off aslant. The Ground
or Area on the Inside should be all paved with
two or even three Layers of very large Stones,
that the Besiegers may not get in upon you by
Mines run under the Wall. All the Rest of
the Walls should be made very high, and very
strong and thick quite to the uppermost Cor-
nish, that they may stoutly resist all Manner of
Battery, and not easily be mounted by Ladders,
nor commanded by Intrenchments cast up on
the Outside. In other Respects the same
Rules are to be observed that we have given

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for the Walls of the City. The greatest De-
fence to the Walls either of a City or Fortress
is to be so provided, that the Enemy cannot
approach you on any Side without being ex-
posed to imminent Danger. This is done both
by making very broad and deep Ditches, as
we said before; and also by leaving private
Loop-FIoles almost at the very Bottom of the
Wall, by which, while the Enemy is covering
himself with his Shield from the Besieged above,
he may be taken in his Flank which lies un-
guarded. And indeed, there is no Kind of
Defence so serviceable as this. You gaul the
Enemy from these Loop-FIoles with the greatest
Safety to yourself, you have a nearer Aim at
him, and you are sure to do most Execution,
since it is impossible he should defend all Parts
of his Body at the same Time: And if your
Weapon passes by the first Man without hurt-
ing him, it meets another, and sometimes
wounds two or three at a Time. On the
Contrary, when the besieged throws Things
down from the Top of the Wall, they must
stand exposed to a good Deal of Danger, and
it is a great Chance whether they hit so much
as one Man, who may easily see what is com-
ing upon him, and avoid it, or turn it aside
with his Buckler. If the Fortress stands upon
the Sea-side, you should fix Piles and Fleaps of
Stone scattered up and down about the Coast
to make it unsafe, and prevent any Batteries in
Shipping from coming too near. If it is upon
a Plain it should be surrounded with a Ditch
filled with Water; but then to prevent its
stinking and infecting the Air, you should d g
for it till you come to a living Spring. If it is upon
a Hill, it should be encompassed with broken
Precipices; and where we have an Opportuni-
ty we should make use of all these Advantages
together. Those Parts which are exposed to

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battery, should be made Semi-circular, or ra-
ther with a sharp Angle like the Head of a
Ship. I am not to learn that some People of
good Experience in military Matters, are of
Opinion that very high Walls are dangerous in
Case of Battery; because their Ruins fill up the
Ditch, and make a Way in it for the Enemy to
approach and assault the Place. But we shall
avoid this Inconvenience, if we observe all the
Rules before laid down. But to return. With-
in the Fortress ought to be one principal Tower,
built in the stoutest Manner, and sortified as
strongly as possible, higher than any other Paid
of the Castle, and not accessible by more than
one Way, to which there should be no other
Entrance but by a Draw-bridge. Draw-
bridges are of two Sorts; one which is lifted up
and stops up the Entrance; the other, which
slides out and in, as you have occasion for it.

In a Place exposed to boisterous Winds, this
last is the most Convenient. Any Tower that
may possibly infest this principal One, ought
to be left quite open and naked on that Side
which stands towards it, or faced only with a
very thin weak Wall.

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CHAP. V.

Of those Parts of the Fortress where the Soldiers are to stand either to keep
centinel, or to fight. Of the Covering or Roof of the Fortress, and in what
Manner it is to be made strong, and of the other Conveniencies necessary in the
Castle, either of a King or a Tyrant.

The Place where the Soldiers are to stand
to keep centinel, and to defend the
Wall, should be so laid out, that some may
guard the lower Parts of the Fortress, others
the upper, thus being all distributed into vari-
ous Posts and Employments. In a Word, the
Entrance in, and Passage out, and every sepa-
rate Part should be so contrived and secured,
that it may be exposed neither to the Treach-
ery of Friends, nor the Force or Fraud of Ene-
mies. The Roofs in a Fortress should be built
with an acute Angle, and very strong, that
they may not easily be demolished by the
Weight of what is thrown from the military
Engines; the Rafters in them must stand very
close together, and a Covering over them, and
then lay the Gutters for carrying off the Rain,
but entirely without Time or Mortal – . Then
make a Covering over the Whole of Pieces of
Tile, or rather of Pumice-stones, to the Heighth
of three Foot: Thus it will neither be in
Danger from any Weight falling upon it, nor
from Fire. In short, a Fortress is to be built
like a little Town: It should be fortified with
the same Care and Art, and if possible, pro-
vided with all the Conveniencies that a Town
should be. It must not want Water, nor suf-
ficient room for lodging the Soldiers, and laying
up Stores of Arms, Corn, Salted-meat, Vine-
gar, and particularly Wood. And within this
Fortress too, that which we called the princi-
pal Tower, ought to be a little Fortress within
itself, and should want none of the Conveni-

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encies required in a great one. It should have
its own Cisterns, and Store-rooms for all Pro-
visions necessary, either for its Maintenance or
Defence. It should have Passages, by which
it may upon Occasion attack even its own
Friends, and for the Admission of Succours. I
will not omit one Circumstance, which is, that
Castles have sometimes been defended by
Means of their private Passages for Water, and
Towns taken by Means of their Drains. Both
these may be of Use for sending out private
Messengers. But you should be sure to con-
trive them so, that they may do you more Ser-
vice than Prejudice. Let them therefore be
made but just big enough; let them run wind-
ing several Ways, and let them end in some
very deep Place, that there may not be room
enough for a Man with his Arms, and that
even one unarmed may not get into the Castle
without being permitted or called. The
Mouths of them may end very conveniently
in some common Drain, or rather in some un-
known desart Place, or in a private Chapel, or
a Tomb in some Church. We should like-
wise never be unprovided against human Acci-
dents and Calamities; and therefore it will be
very proper to have some Passage into the very
Heart of the Fortress, known to nobody but
yourself; by which if you should ever happen
to be shut out, you may immediately get in
with an armed Force: And perhaps one good
Way to do this may be to have some very pri-
vate Part of the Wall built only of Earth or
Chalk, and not of Stone and Mortar. Thus
much may suffice for what is necessary to be
done for a single Person that is possessed of the
Government, whether King or Tyrant.

CHAP. VI.

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Of the several Parts of which the Republick consists. The proper Situation and
Building for the Houses of those that govern the Republick, and of the Priests.
Of Temples, as well large as small, Chapels and Oratories.

We are now to treat of those Things
which are proper to such as are at the
Head not of a Monarchy but of a Common-
wealth; and here the Power is lodged either
in the Hands of some one single Magistrate,
or else is divided among a certain Number.

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The Republick consists of Things sacred,
which appertain to the publick Worship: The
Care of which is in the Priests; and of Things
profane, which regard the Welfare and good of
the Society; the Care of which is in the Sena-
tors and Judges at Home, and in the Generals
of Armies and Fleets Abroad. To each of
these belong two Kinds of Building, one upon
account of the Person’ s Office, the other for
the Use of his own private Family. Every
Man’ s House should certainly be suited to the
Condition of Life which he is in, whether he
is a King, a Tyrant, or a private Person. There
are some Circumstances which in a particular
Manner become Men in high Stations. Virgil
very judiciously makes Anchises have his House
in a private Part of the City, and shaded with
Trees; knowing very well that the Habitati-
ons of great Men, for the Dignity and Quiet
both of themselves and Families, should be re-
mote from the Concourse of the Vulgar, and
from the Noise of Trades; and this not only
for the Pleasure and Conveniency of having
Room for Gardens, Groves, or the like, but
also that so large a Family, consisting of diffe-
rent Sorts of People, may not lie in the Way
to be corrupted and debauched by an ill
Neighbourhood, since (as is rightly observed)
more Mischief is done by Wine Abroad than at
Home: And moreover, in order to avoid the
eternal Torment of numerous Visitors and At-
tendants. I have indeed observed that wise
Princes have not only placed themselves out of
the Way of the Crowd, but even out of the
City itself, that the common People might not
be troublesome to them, but when they were
in some particular Want of their Protection:

And, in Reality, what signifies all their Wealth
and Greatness, if they can never enjoy a few
Hours of Repose and Leisure? However, their

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Houses, let them stand where they will, ought
to have large spacious Apartments to receive
those that come to attend them, and the Street
which leads from them to the Places where the
publick Affairs are transacted, should be of a
good Breadth, that their Servants, Clients,
Suitors and Followers crowding to attend their
Patron, may not stop up the Way, and breed
Confusion. The different Places where the
Magistrates are to exercise their Offices, are
known to every Body: The Business of the
Senator, is in the Senate-house; of the Judge,
in the Tribunal, or Court of Justice; of the
General in the Army; of the Admiral on board
the Fleet. But what shall we say of the Priests?
to whom belongs not only the Temple, but
also the Cloyster, which might be called a
Lodgement, or Camp for Soldiers, since the
chief Priests, and all his inferior Ministers, are
employed in a stubborn and laborious Warfare,
(as we have shewed in the Book called The
Priest ) namely, that of Virtue against Vice.

Of Temples, some are principal, as is that
wherein the chief Priest upon stated Seasons ce-
lebrates some solemn Rites and Sacrifices:
Others are under the Guardianship of inferior
Priests, as all Chapels in Town, and Oratories
in the Country. Perhaps the most convenient
Situation for the principal Temple may be in
the Middle of the City; but it is more Decent
to have it somewhat remote from the Crowd:

A Hill gives it an Air of Dignity, but it is more
secure from Earthquakes in a Plain. In a
Word, the Temple is to be placed where it
may appear with most Majesty and Reverence:
For which Reason it should lie entirely out of
the Way of all Filth and Indecency, to the In-
tent that Fathers, Matrons and Virgins, who
come to offer up their Prayers, may not be
shocked and offended, or perverted from their

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intended Devotions. Nigrigeneus the Archi-
tect. who wrote about the Termini , informs us,
that the ancient Architects were for having the
Fronts of their Temples facing the West: But
this Custom was afterwards quite altered, and
it was thought better to have the Temples and
the Termini look to the East, that they might
have a View of the rising Sun. But I have ob-
served myself that the Ancients in the situating
of their smaller Temples or Chapels, generally
turned their Fronts so as they might be seen
from the Sea, or some River or great Road.

To conclude, a Structure of this Kind ought
to be so built as to entice those who are absent
to come and see it, and to charm and detain
those that are present by the Beauty and Curi-
osity of its Workmanship. An arched Roof
will secure it most against Fire, and a flat one
against Earthquakes; but the former will be
the least liable to Decay by the Injury of Time.
And this may suffice as to the Temples, be-
cause many Things which seem necessary to be
said here, belong more properly to their Orna-
ment than to their real Use: And therefore of
those we shall treat elsewhere. Smaller Tem-
ples and Chaples must imitate the Greater, ac-
cording to the Dignity of their Situation and
Uses.

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CHAP. VII.

That the Priest’ s Camp is the Cloyster; the Duty of the Priest; the various
Sorts of Cloy sters and their proper Situations.

The Priest’ s Camp is the Cloyster, in
which a certain Number of Persons shut
themselves up together in order to devote them-
selves either to Religion or Virtue; such are those
who have dedicated themselves to the sacred
Functions, or who have taken upon themselves
a Vow of Chastity. Besides this Cloyster is a
Place where Persons of studious Dispositions
employ themselves about the Knowledge of
Things as well Divine as Human; for as the
Priest’ s Duty is as far as in him lies to lead
Mankind into a Course of Life as near to Per-
fection as possible, this can never be done more
effectually than by Philosophy. For as there
are two Things in the Nature of Man to which
this must be owing. Virtue and Truth; when
the former has taught us to calm and govern
our Passions, and the latter to know the Prin-
ciples and Secrets of Nature, which will purge
the Mind from Ignorance and the Contagion of
the Body; we may then be qualified to enter
into a happy Course of Life, and to have some
Resemblance with the divine Nature itself. Add
to this, that it is the Duty of all good Men, as
the Priests ought and would be thought to be,
to exercise themselves in all those Offices of
Humanity which are due from every Man to
his Neighbour, namely, to assist and relieve the
Poor, the Distressed and the Infirm, to the ut-
most of their Power. These are the Things
in which the Priest is to employ himself and
all those under his Direction. Of the Struc-
tures proper for these Puiposes, whether be-
longing to the superior or inferior Rank of
Priests, we are now to treat; and first we shall

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begin with the Cloyster. Cloysters arc of se-
veral Sorts, either for such Persons as are to be
so strictly confined that they must never ap-
pear in publick at all, unless at Church or in
Processions; or for those who are to be allow-
ed a little more Liberty. Of these again some
are for Men, others for Women. Those for
Women should, in my Opinion, be neither too
much in the City, nor too much out of it: For
though in a Solitude they may not be so much
srequented, yet any one that has a Design may
have more Opportunity to execute any villan-
ous Enterprize where there are so few Wit-
nesses, than where there are a great many both
to shame and disswade him from such an At-
tempt. It is our Business in both to take Care
not that they have no Inclinations to be un-
chaste, but no means. For this Puipose every
Entrance must be so secured, that nobody can
possibly get in; and so well watched, that no-
body may loyter about in order to attempt it
without instant Suspicion and Shame. No
Camp for an Army should be so well guarded
by Intrenchments and Palisadoes, as a Monas-
tery ought to be by high Walls, without either
Doors or Windows in them, or the least Flole
by which not only no Violator of Chastity, but
not so much as the least Temptation either by
the Eye or Ear, may possibly get in to disorder,
or pollute the Minds of the Recluse. Let them
receive their Light from an open Court on the
Inside. Round this Court the Portico, Cells,
Refectory, Chapter-house and the like Conve-
niencies should be disposed according to their
various Uses, in the same Manner as in private
Flouses. Nor should Space be wanting for
Gardens and Meadows, for the moderate Re-
creation of the Mind, but not for administring
to Pleasure. If all these Precautions are ta-
ken, it will be best to have them out of the

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Way of a Concourse of People. The Cloysters
for both Sexes therefore cannot be better placed
than without the City; that the Attention of
their Thoughts which are entirely dedicated to
Holiness, and the calm and settled Religion of
their Minds may not be disturbed by too many
Visitors. But then I would have their Houses,
whether they are for Men or Women, situated
in the most healthy Air that can be found out;
that the Recluse, while they are wholly intent
upon the Care of their Souls, may not have
their Bodies, already impared, by constant fast-
ing and watching, oppressed likewise with
Weakness and Diseases. Those who are with-
out the City should be placed in a Situation
naturally strong, that neither Robbers nor any
plundering Enemy with a small Force, may
be able at every turn to sack it; and I would
have it moreover fortified with a Trench and a

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Wall, nor would it be amiss to add a Tower,
which is not at all inconsistent with a religious
Edifice. The Monastery for those Recluse
who to Religion join the Study of the liberal
Arts, that they may be the more ready to pro-
mote the Good of Mankind, according to the
Obligation of their Character, ought to be nei-
ther within the Noise and Hurry of Trades-
men, nor too far remote from the Access of the
Citizens. And as they are a great many in
Family, and there is generally a great Con-
course of People to hear them Preach and Dis-
pute concerning sacred Things; they require a
very large House. They can be placed no where
better than among some publick Buildings,
such as Theatres, Circusses, or Squares, where
the Multitude going for their Pleasure may
more easily by the Exhortations, Example and
Admonition of the Religious, be drawn from
Vice to Virtue, and from Ignorance to Know-
ledge.

CHAP. VIII.

Of Places for Exercise, publick Schools, and Hospitals both for Men and
Women.

The Ancients, and especially the Greeks,
used in the very Middle of their Cities
to erect those Edifices which they called
Palcestrce, where those who applied themselves
to Philosophy, attended publick Disputations.

They were large spacious Places full of Win-
dows, with a free Prospect on all Sides, and
raised Seats, and Porticoes running round some
green flowery Meadow. Such a Structure is
extremely proper for these Persons, who may
be reckoned a Kind of Religious; and I would
have those who delight in the Study of Learn-
ing, be provided with every Thing that may

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induce them to stay with their Tutors with
Pleasure, and without Uneasiness or Satiety.

For this Reason, I would have the Meadow,
the Portico, and every Thing else so laid out,
that nothing whatsoever could be better con-
hived for Recreation. In Winter let them re-
ceive the kindly Beams of the Sun, and in Sum-
mer be shady and open to gentle refreshing
Breezes. But of the Delicacies of this Kind of
Structures we shall speak more particularly in
another Place. Only if you do resolve to erect
publick Schools, where the Learned may meet
and converse, place them in that Situation
which may be most convenient and pleasant for
them. Let there be no Noises of working Trades,
no noisome ill Smells; and do not let it be a
Place for idle People to loyter in; but let it
have more the Air of a Solitude, such as be-
comes Men of Gravity employed about the no-
blest and most curious Enquiries: In a Word,
it should have more of Majesty than Nicety.

As for Flospitals where the Priest is to exercise
his Charity towards the Poor and Distressed,
they are to be built with much Thought, and
a good Deal of Variety; for one Place is pro-
per for harbouring the Distressed, and another
for curing and fostering the Sick and Infirm:
Among these last too we should take Care to
make a good Deal of Distinction, that while
we are providing for a few useless People, we
do not neglect more that might really be of
Service. There have been some Princes in Italy
that would never suffer any tattered Cripples
to go about their Cities begging Charity from
Door to Door; but as soon as ever they came,
an Order was brought to them not to be seen
in that City without working at some Trade
above three Days: For there is hardly any so
maimed but what may do some Work or other;
and even a blind Man may turn a Rope-

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maker’ s Wheel, if he can do nothing else. As
for those who are entirely oppressed and dif—
abled by some heavier Infirmity, they were
taken care of by Magistrates appointed on pur-
pose to provide for sick Strangers, and distri-
buted regularly to inferior Hospitlers, to be
looked after. And by this Means these poor
Wretches did not wander about begging Re-
lief, perhaps in vain; and the City was not of-
fended by miserable and filthy Objects. In
Tuscany, always famous for Religion and Pie-
ty, there are noble Hospitals, built at a vast
Expence; where as well Strangers as Natives,
are furnished plentifully with all Manner of
Necessaries for their Cure. But as the Sick are
of various Sorts, some afflicted with Leprosy or
Plague, with which they might infect those who
are in Health, and others, if such an Expres-
sion may be allowed, with more wholsome

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Distempers: They ought to have Places en-
tirely seperate. The Ancients dedicated their
Buildings of this Nature to A Eculapius , Apollo,
and Health, Gods among them to whom they
ascribed the Cure of Sickness and Preservation
Health, and situated them in the best Air they
could find out, and near Plenty of the clearest
Water, where the Sick might recover their
Health, not so much by the Assistanc of those
Gods, as the natural Healthiness of the Place:
And certainly nothing can be more reasonable
than to carry the Sick, whether under a private
or a publick Cure, into the most healthy Places;
and perhaps none are more so, than those which
are very dry and stony, fanned with continual
Breezes, not burnt up by the Sun, but cool and
temperate: Since we find that all Moisture is
the Mother of Corruption. We see that Na-
ture in every Thing loves a Medium; and even
Health itself is nothing but a due Moderation
of the Qualities of the Body; and indeed no-
thing that is in Extreams can please. For the
Rest, those who are seized with Diseases which
are contagious, should be taken Care of not on-
ly without the City, but remote even from any
high Road; the others may be kept in the
City. The Apartments for all these should be
so laid out and distributed, that there may be
distinct Places for those who are curable, and
those whom you take in rather to maintain
them for the Remainder of their unhappy
Days, than to cure them: Of this Sort are the
Superannuated, and those who want their
Senses. Add further, that the Men and Wo-
men, as well the Patients, as the Persons that
attend them, should have Apartments separate
from one another; and as some Parts of the
Building should be for Particulars, others should
be in common, according as it shall be found
necessary for the Management of the Patients,

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and the more easy cohabiting together: Of
which there is no Occasion to say more in this
Place. We shall only observe that all these
Conveniencies are to be contrived according to
the Rules hereafter to be laid down for the
Houses of private Persons. We shall there-
fore now proceed according to the Method
which we have prescribed to ourselves.

CHAP. IX.

Of the Senate— house, the Temple, and the Tribunals for the Administration of
Justice.

Having already observed that the Re-
publick consists of two Parts, the Sacred
and the Profane, and having treated of the
Sacred as much as was requisite, and in a good
Measure too of the Profane, where we took
Notice of the Place in the Palace of the Prince
where the Senate was to meet, and where
Causes were to be heard; we shall now very
briefly speak of those Things which seem neces-
sary to be further added, then proceed to In-
campments and Fleets, and lastly treat of
Things relating to the Uses of private Persons.

The Ancients used to call their Senates together
in Temples, and afterwards it grew a Custom
for them to meet somewhere out of the City.

But at length, both for greater Dignity and
Conveniency in transacting the publick Affairs,
it was found necessary to raise Structures for
his Puipose only; where neither the Length
of the Way, nor any Inconveniency in the
Place itself, might deter the aged Fathers from
meeting often, and continuing a good while
together; and for this Reason they placed the
Senate-house in the Middle of the City, with
the Place for the Administration of Justice and
the Temple near adjoining, that not only those

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who made Interest for Offices, or were obliged
to attend Law-suits, might with greater Con-
venience, and without losing their Time or
Opportunity, look after their Affairs of both
Natures; but also that the Fathers (as Men are
generally most devoted to Religion in their old
Age) might first pay their Devotions in the
Temple, and afterwards repair immediately to
the Transaction of the publick Business. Add
to all this, that when any Ambassador or fo-
reign Prince desires Audience of the Senate, it
becomes the Republick to have a Place suitable
to the Dignity both of the Stranger and of the
City, to receive them in, while they wait for
Introduction. Lastly, in publick Buildings of
this Sort, you must neglect none of those Rules
which belong to the convenient and honoura-
ble Reception of a Multitude of Citizens, and
their easy Dismission: And above all you must
take particular Care, that there is not the least

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Want of sufsicient Passages, Lights, open Areas,
and the like. But in the Hall for the Admi-
nistration of Justice, where Numbers of Peo-
ple resort about various Contentions, the A-
pertures must be more and larger, and more
direct than either in the Temple or Senate-
house. The Entrance into the Senate-house
ought to be made no less strong than hand-
some, for very many Reasons, and particularly
to the Intent that no foolish headstrong Rab-
ble, at the Instigation of any seditious Ring-
leader, may be able at any Time to attack and
insult the Senators: For which Reason, more
than for any other, there ought to be Porti-
coes, Vestibules, and the like, where Servants,

Clients and Attendants, waiting for their Pa-
ttons, may be ready at Hand to defend them
in Case of any sudden Commotion. I will not
omit one Observation, namely, that no Place
where we are to hear the Voices of Persons
either speaking, singing, or disputing, should
ever be vaulted because such Roofs confound
the Voice with Ecchoes: Whereas a flat Ceil-
ing made of Timbers renders the Sound more
clear and distinct.

CHAP. X.

That Incampments, or Lodgments for Soldiers by Land are of three Sorts; in
what Manner they are to be fortified; and the various Methods used by
different Nations.

In laying down a Camp we ought to review
and re-consider all those Rules which we
gave in the last Book for the Situation of a Ci-
ty; for, indeed. Camps are as it were the Seeds
of Cities, and you will find that not a few Ci-
ties have been built in those very Places, where
excellent Generals had before incamped with
their Armies. In making a Camp, the chief

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Matter is to know to what Intent it is design-
ed. There would not be the least Occasion
for a Camp if it were not for unforeseen Acci-
dents in War, and for the Apprehension of As-
saults from a superior Force: And therefore
we are to consider the Nature of the Enemy.

Of Enemies some are inferior as to Valour and
Number; some equal, some superior. For this
Reason we shall determine the different Sorts
of Incampments to be three; the First is that
which is made only for a Time, and is move-
able every Moment, which is proper for with-
standing and managing an Enemy equal to
yourself, and is designed partly for keeping the
Soldier safe from sudden Attacks, and partly
for watching and obtaining Opportunities of
effecting your Designs. The second Sort of
Incampment is stationary, in which you wait
to oppress and subdue an Enemy, who, dis-
trusting his own Forces, shuts himself up in
some strong Hold. The third Sort is that in
which you shut up yourself, to receive and re-
pulse the Attacks of a superior Force, so as to
be able to send the Enemy away weary of the
Fatigues and Loss in besieging you. In all
these you must take great Care that every
Thing be so ordered, that not the least Parti-
cular be wanting which can be of Service to
your own Security and Welfare, and to the
sustaining, repulsing and breaking the Enemy;
and on the Contrary, that the Enemy, as far as
lies in your Power, may have no Conveniency
whatsoever, by means of which he may either
hurt you, or secure himself. For this Reason,
the first Thing to be consulted, is the Nature
of the Situation, that it be in a Country well
furnished with all Manner of Provisions, and
lie convenient for the easy bringing in either of
Convoys or Supplies upon all Occasions. Let
Water by no means be wanting, and let Wood

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and Pasture be not far off. Take care to have
a free Communication with your own Terri-
tory, and an open Passage at pleasure into the
Enemy’ s. Let the Enemy on the Contrary, have
nothing but Difficulties and Obstacles. I am
for having a Camp placed on a Situation so
high, as to have an open View of the Enemy’ s
Country all round; so that they may not be-
gin or attempt any Thing whatsoever, without
your being immediately aware of it. Let it be
secured all round with steep Slopes, difficult
Ascents, and broken Precipices; that the Ene-
my may not be able to surround you with
Multitudes, nor to attack you on any Side,
without exposing himself to imminent Danger;
or that if he should come close up to you, he
may not conveniently use his Engines, or make
any secure Lodgments for himself near you.

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If the Situation offers all these Advantages, be
sure to be the First to lay hold of them; if
not, we must then consider what Sort of Camp,
and what Kind of Situation will best answer
your Purpose. A stationary Camp ought to
be much better fortified than a Flying one:

And a Plain requires more Art and Diligence
to strengthen it, than a Hill. We shall begin
with the moveable, or flying Camp, because it
is much more frequently used than a stationary
one: And indeed, the frequent moving the
Camp, has very often conduced extremely to
the Health of the Army. In placing a Camp,
it is a Question that naturally arises in the
Mind, whether it is best to fix it upon our
own Territory, or upon that of the Enemy.
Xenophon says, that by frequent changing our
Camp, our Enemy is oppressed, but our Friends
eased. Without doubt, it is honourable and
brave to lie upon the Enemy’ s Country; but
it is convenient and safe to be upon our own.
But indeed a Camp is, with regard to all the
Territory which is subject to it, what a Citadel
is to a City; which ought to have a short and
easy Retreat towards its Friends, and an open
and ready Passage upon its Enemies. Lastly,
in the fortifying of Camps various Methods
have been used. The Britains used to make a
Fence round their Camps with Stakes ten foot
long, sharpened and burnt at the Ends, with
one End fixed in the Ground, and the other
standing up to keep off the Enemy. C sar
tells us, that the Gauls used to make a Ram-
part of their Waggons, as he says the Thraci-
ans also did against Alexander. The Nervii
(or People of Toumay ) used to cut down young
Trees, and binding and interlacing the Boughs
together made them into a strong Hedge,
which served chiefly for keeping off the Horse.
Arrian relates that when Nearchus, Alexan-

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der ’ s Admiral, sailed along the Ind an Sea, ha-
ving Occasion to land, he surrounded his Camp
with a Wall to secure himself against the Bar-
barians. The Romans were always so well
provided, and had so much Foresight, that
whatever happened they took care it should
never be by their own Fault; and they used to
exercise their Soldiers no less in making In-
campments, than in the other Parts of the Mi-
litary Duty. Nor did they think there was so
much Merit in offending their Enemies, as in
securing their own Men; and they accounted
it no small Paid of the Victory, to be able to
withstand the Enemy, and to repulse him so
stoutly as to make him Despair of Success. For
which Reason they never neglected any Means
of Desence that they could learn or invent for
their own Safety: And if high Hills or Preci-
pices were not to be had, they imitated them
as well as they could with very deep Ditches
and high Ramparts, emcompassed with strong
Fences of Stakes and Flurdles.

CHAP. XI.

The most convenien t Situation for a Camp , and its Size, Form and various
Parts; together with the different Methods of attacking and defending a
Camp or other Fortification.

We shall here proceed further upon this
Subject of Camps according to the
Methods of the aforementioned Ancients. We
must take Care to pitch upon a Place not only
convenient, but so well adapted for whatever
Puipose we have in Hand, that none could be
found more suitable. And besides the other
Advantages before recited, let the Soil be dry,
not muddy nor liable at any Time to be over-
flowed; but let the Situation be such that it
may be always clear and free for your own

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Men, and unfafe for the Enemy. Let there
be no foul Puddle in the Neighbourhood, and
let there be good Water at an easy Distance.
Contrive, if possible, to have some clear Springs
within the Camp itself, or to have the Foss
filled with some River or running Stream. The
Camp ought not to be so large, out of Propor-
tion to the Number of your Soldiers, that they
cannot be able to keep sufficient Centry about
it, so as to give the Watch-word round one to
another; or to relieve one another so often as
may be requisite in defending the Ramparts:

Nor, on the Contrary, ought it to be so crampt
up and confined, as not to afford sufficient
room for all proper Conveniencies. Lycurgus
was of Opinion that Angles were useless in a
Camp, and therefore he always laid out his in
a Circle, unless he had some Hill, River or For-
tification at his Back. Others commend a

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square Area for Incampments: But indeed in
situating a Camp we must accommodate our-
selves to the Necessity of the Time, and the
Nature of the Place, according to the Puipose
which we have in Hand, whether it be to op-
press the Enemy or to resist him. Let us
make our Foss so big, that it may not be filled
up without great Labour, and a long Space of
Time; or rather let us have two Fosses, with
some intermediate Space between them. The
Ancients, in Works of this Nature also, held it
a Point of Religion to make use of odd Num-
bers; for which Reason it was their Custom to
make their Ditches fifteent Foot wide, and nine
deep. Let the Sides of the Ditch be Perpen-
dicular, so that it may be as broad at the Bot-
tom as the Top; but where the Soil is loose,
you may allow a small Slope, running some-
what narrower towards the Bottom. In a
Plain, or a low Situation, fill your Ditch with
Water brought from some River, Lake, or Sea:
But if this cannot be effected shew all the Bot-
tom with sharp Points of Steel and Caltrops,
and fix up and down a good Number of Stakes
with their Ends smoothed and sharpened, to
keep off the Enemy. Having compleated your
Ditch, make your Rampart so thick, that it
may not be to be shaken by every little mili-
tary Engine, and so high as to be above the
Reach of the grappling Hooks, and even of
Darts thrown by the Hand. The Earth dug
out of the Foss lies very convenient and ready
at Hand for making up the Rampart. The
Ancients for that Work very much commend-
ed Turfs dug out of the Meadows with the
Grass upon them, the Roots whereof fasten
them very strongly together. Others intermix
them with Twigs of green Oziers, which strike
their Roots into the Rampart, and by the Con-
texture of their Fibres strengthen the whole

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Work. Along the inward Edge of the Foss
and the Outside of the Rampart set Thorns,
Spikes, Tenter-hooks and the like, to retard
the Enemy in his Ascent. Let the Top of the
Rampart be girt with a strong Frame of Tim-
bers joyned to one another crossways like a
Cornish, with Hurdles and Earth well rammed
in together between them; and upon these
raise your Battlements, and stick in forked Pa-
lisadoes like Stag’ s Horns. In a Word, let
every Thing be so contrived in this Kind of
Structure, as to make it difficult to be either
undermined, thrown down, or mounted; and
to protect the Soldier who is to defend it.

Upon the Edge of this Rampart erect Towers
at the Distance of every hundred Feet, and
especially in such Parts as are most likely to be
attacked, where they ought to stand closer and
be built higher that they may the more effec-
tually annoy the Enemy, when he attempts to
make his Way into the Camp. Let the Prce-
torium, or General’ s Tent, and the Gate look-
ing towards the Enemy, as also that in the
Back of the Camp, which two Gates used
formerly to be called the porta Quintana, and
the porta Decumana, be placed in the strong-
est Parts of the Camp, and lie convenient for
making any sudden Sally with the Army, or
bringing in of Provisions, or giving a ready
Retreat to your own Men. All these Con-
veniencies belong more particularly to a stati-
onary Camp, than to a flying one: But as we
ought to be provided against all Accidents that
either Fortune or the Calamity of the Times
can produce, we should not, even in a flying
Camp, neglect any of those Particulars which
we have spoken of, as far as may be necessary.
Those Things which belong to a stationary
Camp, especially one that is to expect a Siege,
are very nearly the same with those which we

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spoke of with Relation to the Citadel of a Ty-
rant. A Citadel is a Structure purposely de-
signed for the Sustaining a Siege, since the Ci-
tizens always look upon it with an irreconcile-
able Hatred: And it is indeed the most cruel
Kind of Siege that can be imagined, to be con-
tinually watching it, and to be always upon the
Catch for an Opportunity that may offer, by
Means of which you may satisfy the strong De-
sire you have to destroy it: And for this Rea-
son, as we observed before, we should take the
greatest Care to make it strong, stout, durable,
well provided for its own Defence, and for
weakening and repulsing the Enemy, and able
to defy the most obstinate and violent Attacks.
On the other Hand in those Camps, where you
are to be shut up and molest an Enemy, all the
same Things are to be observed with the same
Care: For it is indeed a just Observation, that
the Nature of War is such, that he who be-
sieges is in a great Measure besieged himself.
For this Reason you are to consider not only
how you may take the Place, but also how
you may keep yourself from being oppressed,
either by the Boldness or Diligence of the E-
nemy, or by the Carelessness of your own Men.
In order to take the Place, you must proceed
either by Siege or by Assault: And to keep
yourself from being oppressed, there are also
two Methods, which are, being stoutly fortified,

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and making a brave Defence. The whole Pur-
pose of an Assault is to break in either upon a
Town or a Fortification. I shall not speak here
either of Scaling-ladders, by Means whereof
you mount the Wall in spite of the Enemy;
nor of Mines, moveable Towers, Engines for
Battery, nor of any other Methods of Offence
either by Fire, Water, or any other Force: In-
asmuch as we intend to treat of these military
Engines more clearly in another Place. Thus
much it may be proper here to mention, that
against the Violence of Battery we should op-
pose Beams, Planks, Parapets of strong Tim-
ber, Flurdles, Ropes, Fascines, Sacks stuffed
with Wool, Rushes, or Earth; and they should
be so contrived as to hang loose and pliable.
Against Fire these Things ought to be wetted,
and especially with Vinegar, or Mud, and co-
vered with Brick unbaked; against Water, to
prevent the Bricks from being washed away,
they should be covered over with the Flides of
Beasts; and lastly, against Battery, that the
Flides may not be broken through or torn
away, add any coarse Cloths or Tarpawlins
thoroughly wetted and soaked. Circumvalla-
tions or Trenches round the Place besieged,
ought for several Reasons to be drawn pretty
near it; for by that Means their Circuit will
be less, they will require fewer Flands, Ex-
pence and Materials, to finish them, and when
finished, the fewer Men will be necessary to
defend them: But they must not run so close
under the Wall, that the Besieged may an-
noy your Men within their Trenches by En-
gines upon the Wall. If the Circumvallation
be only intended to cut off from the Besieged
all Manner of Supplies, either of Men or Pro-
visions from without; you may do this by
stopping up all the Ways and Passages, either
by barracading the Bridges, and Fords, and

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blocking up the Roads with strong Fences of
Wood or Stones; or by running up a continu-
ed Rampart to joyn together the Lakes, Bogs,
Marshes, Rivers and Hills; or if you can any
Ways lay the Country under Water. To these
Precautions we should add those which relate
to the Defence of our own Camp: For the
Trenches, Ramparts, Towers and the like
ought to be so well fortified both towards the
Place besieged, and on the Side of any Coun-
try that might throw in Succours, that the
former may not be able to annoy you by Sallies,
nor the Latter by Incursions. Moreover, in
convenient Places erect Watch-towers and
Forts, that your Men may go out to forage for
Wood, Water and Provisions with Safety and
Freedom. But do not let your Troops be dis-
persed up and down in Places so remote from
one another, that they cannot obey the Orders
of a single General, nor fight with united
Forces, nor be ready at Fland to assist one an-
other upon any sudden Emergency. It will
not be foreign to our Puipose to set down here
an Account of a Fortification out of Appian,
well worthy to be remembered. Fie tells us,
that when Octavianus Augustus besieged Lu-
cius Antonins in Perusia, he made a Trench
quite to the Tyber, seven Miles long, thirty
Foot broad, and as many deep: Which he for-
tified with a high Wall, and with a thousand
and fifty wooden Towers standing up, each
threescore Foot above the Wall, and made the
Whole so strong, that the Besieged were not
more straitened in by it, than they were ex-
cluded from annoying the Enemy in any Part.
And thus much may suffice for Incampments
or Stations by Land, unless it may be thought
necessary to add, that we ought to chuse out a
Place of the greatest Dignity and Flonour,
wherein to plant the Standard of the Corn-

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monwealth with befitting Majesty, where the
Rites of Religion may be performed with all
due Reverence, and where the Generals and
other chief Officers may meet either in Coun-
cil or for the Administration of Justice.

CHAP. XII.

Of Incampments or Stations at Sea, which are Fleets; of Ships and their
Parts; as also ofFIavens and their proper Fortification.

Some perhaps will not allow that Fleets
are Sea Incampments; but will be rather
for saying, that we use Ships like a Kind of
Water Elephant, which we direct as we please
by its Bridle; and that the Haven is much
more like a Sea Incampment, than the Fleet.

Others on the Contrary, will say, that a Ship
is no other than a travelling Fortress. We shall

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pass by these Disputes, and proceed to shew
that there are two Things by Means of which
the Art of Building may contribute to the
Sasety and Victory of Generals of Fleets and
their Forces: The First consists in the right
Construction and Rigging of the Vessels, and
the Second in the proper fortifying the Flaven;
whether you are to go to attack the Enemy,
or to stay to defend yourself. The primary
Use of Shipping is to convey you and yours:
The Second, is to fight without Danger. The
Danger must arise either from the Ships them-
selves, in which Case it seems to be innate and
incorporate with them; or else must happen to
them from without. That from without, is
from the Force and Violence of Winds and
Waves, from Rocks and Shelves; all which are
to be avoided by Experience in Sea-affairs, and
a thorough Knowledge of Places and Winds:
But the Danger incorporate and innate with
the Vessel itself, arises either from the Design,
or the Timbers; against which Defects it falls
under our Province to provide. We should
reject all Timber that is brittle, or apt to split,
too heavy or liable to rot soon. Nails and Pins
of Brass or Copper, are reckoned better than
those of Iron. I have observed by Means of
Trajan ‘ s Ship, which while I was writing this
Treatise was dug up out of the lago di Nemi,
where it had lain under Water above thirteen
hundred Years, that the Pine and Cypress
Wood which was in it had remained surpriz-
ingly sound. It was covered on the Outside
with double Planks, done over with Greek
Pitch, to which stuck a Coat of Linen Cloth,
and that again was plated over with Sheets of
Lead fastened on with brass Nails. The anci-
ent Architects took the Model of their Ships
from the Shape of a Fish; that Part which
was the Back of the Fish, in the Ship was the

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Keel; that which in the Fish was the Flead,
in the Ship was the Prow; the Tail was the
Flelm, and instead of Fins and Gills, they made
Oars. Ships are of two Sorts, and are built
either for Burthen or for Speed: A long Ves-
sel cuts its Way quickest through the Water,
especially when it Sails before the Wind; but
a short one is most obedient to the Flelm. I
would not have the Length of a Vessel of Bur-
then less than three Times its Breadth; nor
that of a Vessel for Speed, more than nine
Times. We have treated more particularly of
every Thing relating to a Vessel in a Book in-
tended wholly for that Purpose, called the
Ship; and therefore shall have Occasion to say
no more of it here, than what is just necessary.
The Parts of a Ship are these, the Keel, the
Poop, the Prow, the two Sides, to which you
may, if you please, add the Sail, the Flelm,
and the Rest of the Parts that belong to the
Course of the Ship. The FIollow of the Vessel
will bear any Weight that is equal to the
Weight of Water that would fill it quite up to
the Top. The Keel must be straight, but all
the other Parts made with curve Lines. The
broader the Keel is, the greater Weight the
Vessel will cany, but then it will be the slow-
er; the naiTower the Keel is, the Swister will
be the Ship, but then it will be unsteady, un-
less you fill it with Ballast. The broad Keel is
most convenient in shallow Water; but in deep
Seas the nanow one will be more secure. The
Sides and Prow built high will make the stout-
est Resistance against the Waves, but then
they are more exposed to Danger from the
Winds; the Sharper the Flead is, the Swifter
the Ship will make its Way; and the Thinner
the Stern, the more Steady will be the Vessel
in its Course. The Sides of the Ship towards
the Flead ought to be very stout, and a little

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Swelling outwards to throw off the Waves
when it ploughs through the Water both with
Sails and Oars; but towards the Stern they
should grow narrower, in order to slip through
the Waves with the more Ease. A Number
of Helms adds Firmness to the Vessel, but takes
off from i s Swiftness. The Mast should be as
long as the whole Ship. We shall not here
descend to other minute Particulars necessary
both to the Way and Defence of the Vessel,
such as Oars, Ropes, sharp Beaks, Towers,
Bridges and the like; but shall only observe,
that the Planks and Timbers which hang
down by the Sides and stick out by the Beak
of the Vessel, will serve instead of a Fortifica-
tion against the Attacks of the Enemy as will
Poles stuck upright, instead of Towers, and
the Boom, or the Skiff laid over the Boom, in-
stead of Bridges. The Ancients used in the
Prow of their Ships to place a military En-
gine, which they called a Corvus: But our
Mariners now in the Head and Stem of their
Vessels near the Masts have learnt to set up
Towers, which they fence round with old
coarse Cloths, Ropes, Sacks, and the like, to
deaden the Force of any Violence that might
attack them; and to keep off any Enemy that
should attempt to board them, they set up a
Fence of Net-work. I have in another Place
conn ived and shewn how the Floor of the Ship

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may in a Moment, in the midst of an Engage-
ment, be filled with sharp Points sticking up
close to one another, so that an Enemy can
never set his Foot any where without a Wound;
and on the other Hand when there is Occasion,
how all these may in less Space of Time be all
removed and cleared away; but this is not a
proper Place for repeating it again, and it is
sufficient to have given the Hint to an ingeni-
ous Mind. Moreover I have found a Way how,
with a slight Stroke of a Hammer, to throw
down the whole Floor, with all the Men that
have boarded the Vessel and stand upon it, and
then again with very little Labour to replace
it as it was before, whenever it is thought ne-
cessary so to do. Neither is this a proper Place
to relate the Methods which I have invented
to sink and burn the Enemy’ s Ships and de-
stroy their Crews by miserable Deaths. We
may perhaps speak of them elsewhere. One
Thing must not be omitted, namely, that Ves-
sels of different Heights and Sizes are requi-
site in different Places. In the Mare Mag-
giore, in the Narrows among the Islands, a
large Ship, that cannot be managed with-
out a great Number of Hands, is very un-
safe when the Winds are any thing boisterous:
On the Contrary out of the Strait’ s Mouth, in
the wide Ocean, a little Vessel will not be able
to live. To this Head of maritime Affairs also
belong the Defending and Blocking up a Ha-
ven. This may be done by sinking any great
Body, or by Moles, Piers, Chains and the like,
whereof we have treated in the preceding
Book. Drive in Piles, block the Port up with
huge Stones, and sink large hollow Frames
made either of Planks or Oziers and filled
with any heavy Stuff. But if the Nature of
the Place, or the Greatness of the Expence will
not allow of this, as for Instance, if the Bot-

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tom be a Sand or Mud continually moving, or
the Water be of too great a Depth, you may
then block up the Haven in the following
Manner. Make a Float of great Barrels fasten-
ed together, with Planks and Timbers joyned
cross-ways to one another, and with large
Spikes and sharp Beaks sticking out from the
Float, and Piles with Points of Iron, such as
are called shod Piles, to the Intent that none
of the Enemy’ s light Ships may dare to drive
against the Float with full Sails, in order to
endeavour to break or pass it. Dawb the Float
over with Mud to secure it against Fire, and
fortify it with a Palisado of Hurdles or strong
Boards, and in convenient Places with wooden
Towers, fastening the whole Work against the
Fury of the Waves with a good Number of
Anchors concealed from the Enemy. It would
not be amiss to make such a Work sinuous or
wavy, with the Backs of the Arches turned
against the Stress of the Weather, that the
Float may bear the lefs upon its Anchors.

But upon this Subject, thus much may suffice.

CHAP. XIII.

Of the Commissaries, Chamberlains, publick Receivers and the like Magistrates,
whose Business is to supply and preside over the publick Granaries, Chambers
of Accompts, Arsenals, Marts, Docks and Stables; as also of the three Sorts
of Prisons, their Structures, Situations and Compartitions.

Now as the Execution of ah these
Things requires good Store of Provisi-
ons, and of Treasures to supply the Expence;
it will be necessary to say something of the Ma-
gistrates who have the Care of this Part of the
Business; as for Instance, Commissaries, Cham-
berlains, publick Receivers, and the like, for
whom the following Structures must Be erect-
ed: The Granary, the Chamber for keeping

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the Treasures, the Arsenal, the Mart or Place
for the transacting Commerce, the Dock and
the publick Stables for Horses. We shall have
but little to say here upon these Heads, but
that little must not be neglected. It is evident
to every Man’ s Reason, that the Granary, the
Chamber of Accompts, and the Arsenal or
Magazine for Arms ought to be placed in the
Heart of the City, and in the Place of great-
est Honour, for the greater Security and Con-
veniency. The Docks or Arsenals for Ship-
ping should be placed at a Distance from the
Houses of the Citizens, for fear of Fire. We
should also be sure, in this last Sort of Struc-
ture, to raife a good many entire Party- walls

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in different Places, running from the Ground
quite up above the Roof, to confine the Flame,
if any should happen, and prevent it catching
from one Roof to another. Marts ought to be
fixed by the Sea-side, upon the Mouths of Ri-
vers, and the Meeting of several great Roads.
The Docks or Arsenals for Shipping should
have large Basons or Canals of Water, wherein
to receive such Vessels as want refitting, and
from which they may be conveniently launched
out again to Sea; but we should take Care
that this Water be not a standing one, but be
kept in constant Motion. Shipping is very
much rotted by southerly Winds, and cracked
by the mid-day Pleat; but the Aspect of the
rising Sun preserves it. All Granaries, or other
Structures built for the laying up of Stores, ab-
solutely require a Driness both of Air and Si-
tuation. But we shall speak more fully of
the Particulars, when we come to the Conve-
niences belonging to private Persons, to whose
use they are indeed referred; only we shall say
something here of the Places for laying up Salt.
A Storehouse for Salt ought to be made in the
following Manner. Make up the Ground
with a Layer of Coal to the Fleight of one
Cubit or Foot and an half, and stamp it down
very tight; then strew it with Sand pounded
together with clean Chalk, to the Fleight of
three Flands breadths, and lay it exactly level;
and then pave it with square Bricks baked till
they are quite black. The Face of the Walls
on the Inside ought to be made of the same
Sort of Bricks; but if you have not a sufficient
Quantity of them, you may build it with square
Stone, not either with soft Stone or Flint, but
with some Stone of a middle Nature between
those two, only very hard; and let this Sort of
Work go the Thickness of a Cubit into the
Wall; and then let the whole Inside be lined

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with Planks of Wood, fastened with brass Nails,
or rather joynted together without any Nails
at all, and fill up the intermediate Space be-
tween the Lining and the Wall, with Reeds.

It would also have a mighty good Effect to
dawb over the Planks with Chalk steeped in
Lees of Oil, and mixed with Spart and Rushes
shred small. Lastly, all publick Buildings of
this Nature ought to be well fortified with
stout Walls, Towers, and Ammunition, against
all Manner of Lorce, Malice, or Lraud either
of Robbers, Enemies or seditious Citizens. I
think I have now said enough of publick
Structures, unless it may be thought necessary
to consider of one Particular more which con-
cerns the Magistrate, and that not a little;
namely, that it is necessary he should have
Places for the Confinement of such as he has
condemned either for Contumacy, Treachery
or Villany. I observe that the Ancients had
three Sorts of Prisons. The first was that
wherein they kept the Disorderly and the Igno-
rant, to the Intent that every Night they might
be doctored and instructed by learned and able
Professors of the best Arts, in those Points
which related to good Manners and an honest
Life. The Second was for the Confinement
of Debtors, and for the Reformation of such
as were got into a licentious Way of Living.

The last was for the most wicked Wretches and
horrid Profligates, unworthy of the Light of the
Sun or the Society of Mankind, and soon to be
delivered over to capital Punishment or perpe-
tual Imprisonment and Misery. If any Man is
of Opinion that this last Sort of Prison ought
to be made like some subterraneous Cavern, or
frightful Sepulchre, he has certainly a greater
Regard to the Punishment of the Criminal than
is agreeable either to the Design of the Law or
to Humanity; and though wicked Men do by

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their Crimes deserve the highest Punishment,
yet the Prince or Commonwealth ought never
to forget Mercy in the Midst of Justice. There-
fore let it be sufficient to make this Sort of
Buildings very strong and secure, with stout
Walls, Roofs and Apertures, that the Person
confined may have no Means of making his
Escape; which may in a great Measure be ob-
tained, by the Thickness, Depth and Height of
the Walls, and their being built with very hard
and hu ge Stones, joyned together with Pins of
Iron or Brass. To this you may, if you please,
add Windows grated with strong Bars of Iron
or Wood; though in reality nothing of this Sort
whatsoever can fully secure a Prisoner always
thoughtful of his Liberty and Safety, nor pre-
vent his making his Escape, if you let him use
the Strength which Nature and Cunning have
bestowed upon him, and on which Account
there is an excellent Admonition contained in
this Saying, that the vigilant Eye of a Goaler is
a Prison of Adamant. But in other Respects,
let us follow the Method and Customs of the
Ancients. We must remember that in a Pri-
son there must be Privies and Healths for Fire,
which ought to be contrived to be without
either Smoake or ill Smells, the following
Plan of an entire Prison may answer all the a-
forementioned Puiposes. Enclose with very
high and strong Walls, without any Apertures,

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1

a Space of Ground in some secure and not un-
frequented Part of the City, and fortify it with
Towers and Galleries. From this Wall in-
wards the Apartments where the Prisoners are
to be confined, let there be an open Walk
about four Foot and an half wide, where the
Keepers may take their Rounds every Night
to prevent any Escapes by Conspiracy among the
Prisoners. The Space remaining in the Mid-
dle of this Circuit divide in the following Man-
ner. Instead of a Vestibule make a good plea-
sant Flail, where those may be instructed who
are sent thither in order to be forced to learn
how to demean themselves. Next to this Flail,
make Flabitations for the Goalers and Places
for them to keep guard in, within an Enclosure
of Lattices and Cross-bars. Next let there be
an open Court, with Porticoes on each Side of
it, with Windows in them, through which you
may see into all the Cells within; in which
Cells Bankrupts and Debtors are to be confin-
ed, not all together, but in different Apart-
ments. In the Front of this Court there must
be a closer Prison, for such as are guilty of
small Offences, and beyond that a Place where
Prisoners for capital Crimes may be confined
with yet greater Strictness and Privacy.

CHAP. XIV.

Of private Houses and their Differences; as also of the Country House, and
the Rules to be observed in its Situation and Structure.

I now come to treat of private Edifices. I
have already observed elsewhere, that a
House is a little City. We are therefore in the
building of it, to have an Eye almost to every
Thing that relates to the Building of a City;
that it be healthy, furnished with all Manner
of Necessaries, not defficient in any of the Con-

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1

veniencies that conduce to the Repose, Tran-
quility or Delicacy of Life. What those are
and how they are to be obtained, I think I have
already, in a great Measure, shewn in the pre-
ceding Books. However, as the Occasion here
is different, we shall consider them over again
in the following Manner. A private House is
manifestly designed for the Use of a Family,
to which it ought to be a useful and conveni-
ent Abode. It will not be so convenient as it
ought, if it has not every Thing within itself
that the Family has Occasion for. There is a
great Number of Persons and Things in a Fa-
mily, which you cannot distribute as you would
in a City so well as you can in the Country.

In building a House in Town, your Neigh-
bour’ s Wall, a common Gutter, a publick
Square or Street, and the like, shall all hinder
you from contriving it just to your own Mind;
which is not so in the Country, where you have
as much Freedom as you have Obstruction in
Town. For this, and other Reasons, there-
fore, I shall distinguish the Matter thus: That
the Habitation for a private Person must be
different in Town from what it is in the Coun-
try. In both these there must again be a Dif-
ference between those which are for the meaner
Sort of Citizens, and those which are for the
Rich. The meaner Sort build only for Ne-
cessity; but the Rich for Pleasure and Delight.

I shall set down such Rules as the Modesty of
the wisest Men may approve of in all Sorts of
Buildings, and for that Puipose shall begin
with those which are most easy. Habitations
in the Country are the freest from all Obstruc-
tions, and therefore People are more inclined to
bestow their Expence in the Country than in
Town. We shall therefore first take a Review
of some Observations which we have already
made, and which are very material with Re-

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lation to the chief Uses of a Country House.
They are as follows: We should carefully avoid
a bad Air and an ill Soil. We should build
in the Middle of an open Champian, under the
Shelter of some Hill, where there is Plenty of
Water, and pleasant Prospects, and in the
healthiest Paid of a healthy Country. A heavy
unhealthy Air is said to be occasioned not on-
ly by those Inconveniencies which we mention-
ed in the first Book, but also by thick Woods,
especially if they are full of Trees with bitter
Leaves; because the Air in such Places being
not kept in Motion either by Sun or Winds,
wants its due Concoction; it is also occasioned
by a barren and unwholsome Soil, which will
never produce any Thing but Woods. A
Country House ought to stand in such a Place
as may lie most convenient for the Owner’ s
House in Town. Xenophon would have a Man

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go to his Country House on Foot, for the Sake
of Exercise, and return on Horseback. It ought
not therefore to lie far from the City, and the
Way to it should be both good and clear, so as
he may go it either in Summer or Winter, either
in a Coach, or on Foot, and if possible by
Water. It will be also very convenient to have
your Way to it lie through a Gate of the City
that is not far from your Town House, but as
near it as may be, that you may go backwards
and forwards from Town to Country, and from
Country to Town, with your Wife and Fami-
ly, as often as you please, without being too
much observed by the People, or being obliged
in the least to consult your Dress. It is not
amiss to have a Villa so placed, that when you
go to it in a Morning the Rays of the rising
Sun may not be troublesome to your Eyes, nor
those of the setting Sun in the Evening when
you return to the City. Neither should a Coun-
try House stand in a remote, desart, mean Cor-
ner, distant from a reasonable Neighbourhood
but in a Situation where you may have Peo-
ple to converse with, drawn to the same Place
by the Fruitfulness of the Soil, the Pleasantness
of the Air, the Plentifulness of the Country,
the Sweetness of the Fields, and the Security of
the Neighbourhood. Nor should a Villa be
seated in a Place of too much Resort, near ad-
joyning either to the City, or any great Road,
or to a Port where great Numbers of Vessels
and Boats are continually putting in; but in
such a Situation, as though none of those Plea-
sures may be wanting, yet your Family may
not be eternally molested with the Visits of
Strangers and Passengers. The Ancients say
that in windy Places Things are never spoilt
by Rust or Mildew; but in moist Places, and
low Vallies, where the Winds have not a free
Course, they are very much exposed to them.

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I cannot approve of one general Rule which is
laid down for all Places, namely, that a Coun-
try House ought to be built so as to look to-
wards the rising of the Sun when it is in the
Equinox: For nothing can be said relating to
the Sun and Winds but what must alter accord-
ing to the Difference of the Climate, since the
North Wind is not light and the South un-
healthy in all Places. Celsus , the Physician,
very well observed that all Winds which blow
from the Sea, are grosser than those which
blow over Land, which are always lighter.

Upon this Account of the Winds we ought to
avoid the Mouths of all Vallies, because in such
Places the Winds are too cold if they come in
the Night, or too hot, if in the Day, being
over-heated by the too great Reflection of the
Sun’ s Rays.

CHAP. XV.

That Country Houses are of two Sorts; the proper Disposition of all their
Members whether for the Lodging of Men, Animals, or Tools of Agricul-
ture and other necessary Instruments.

But as of Habitations in the Country some
are designed for Gentlemen, others for
Husbandmen, some invented for Use, others
perhaps for Pleasure; we shall begin with those
which belong to Husbandmen. The Habita-
tions of these ought not to be far from their
Master’ s House, that he may be at Hand to
over-look them every now and then, to see
what they are doing, and what Orders it is
necessary for him to give. The peculiar Busi-
ness of these Structures is for the getting in,
ordering and preserving the Fruits of the Earth:

Unless you will say that this last Office, name-
ly, of preserving the Grain, belongs rather to
the House of the Master, and even rather to his

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House in the City than to that in the Country.
This Business is to be done by a Number of
Hands and a good Quantity of Tools, but most
of all by the Diligence and Industry of the
Farmer or Overseer. The Ancients comput-
ed the necessary Family of a Farmer to be
about fifteen Persons; for these therefore you
must have convenient Places where they may
warm themselves when they are cold, or retire
for Shelter when they are driven from their
Labour by foul Weather, where they may eat
their Meals, rest themselves and prepare the
Things they will want in their Business. Make
therefore a large Kitchen, not obscure, nor li-
able to Danger from Fire, with an Oven, Stove,
Pump and Sink. Beyond the Kitchen let there
be a Room where the better Sort among your
People may lie, and a Larder for preserving all
Sorts of Provisions for daily Use. Let all the

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other People be so distributed, that every one
may be near those Things which are under his
particular’ Care. Let the Overseer lie near the
principal Gate, that nobody may pass and re-
pass or carry any Thing out in the Night with-
out his Knowledge. Let those who have the
Care of the Cattle, lie near the Stable, that
they may be always at Hand to keep every
Thing in good Order. And this may be suf-
ficient with Relation to your People. Of
Tools or Instruments, some are animate, as
Cattle; and some inanimate, as Carts, all Sorts
of iron Tools, and the like; for these erect on
one Side of the Kitchen a large Shed under
which you may set your Cart, Plough, Har-
row, Yoke, Hay-baskets, and the like Utensils;
and let this Shed have a South Aspect, that in
Winter Time the Family may divert themselves
under it on Holydays. Make a very large
and neat Place for your Presses both of Wine
and Oil. Let there be also a Store-house for
the laying up and preserving your Measures,
Hampers, Baskets, Cordage, Houghs, Pitch-
forks and so forth. Over the Rafters that run
across within the Shed, you may spread Hur-
dles, and upon them you may lay up Poles,
Rods, Staves, Boughs, Leaves and Fodder for
your Oxen, Hemp and Flax unwrought, and
such like Stores. Cattle is of two Sorts; one,
for Labour; as Oxen and Horses; the other,
for Profit, as Hogs, Sheep, Goats, and all Sorts
of Herds. We shall speak first of the labour-
ing Sort, because they seem to come under the
Head of Instruments; and afterwards we shall
say something of those which are for Profit,
which belong properly to the Industry of your
Overseer or Farmer. Let the Stables for Horses,
and for Oxen, and all other black Cattle, be
warm in Winter, and let their Racks be strong
and well fenced, that they may not scatter their

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Meat. Let the Hay for the Horses be above
them, that they may not reach it without some
Pains, and that they may be forced to raise
their Heads high for it, which makes their
Heads drier and their Shoulders lighter. On
the Contrary, let their Oats and other Grain
lie so as they may be forced to stoop low for
it; which will prevent their taking too large
Mouthfuls, and swallowing too much whole;
besides that it will strengthen their Breast and
Muscles. But above all you must take parti-
cular’ Care that the Wall behind the Manger,
against which the Horse’ s Head is to stand, be
not damp. The Bone which covers the Horse’ s
Brain is so thin, that it will bear neither Damp
nor Cold; and therefore take Care also that the
Moon’ s Beams do not come in at the Win-
dows; which are very apt to make him Wall-
eyed and to give him grievous Coughs; and
indeed the Moon’ s Beams are as bad as a Pes-
tilence to any Cattle that are infirm. Let the
Oxe’ s Manger be set lower, that he may eat as
he lyes. If Horses see the Fire, they are pro-
digiously frightened and will grow rugged.
Oxen are pleased with the Sight of Men. If a
Mule is set up in a hot or dark Place, she runs
Mad. Some think the Mule does not want so
much as the least Shelter for any other Part
but her Head, and that it is not at all the
Worse if her other Parts are exposed to Dews
and Colds. Let the Ground under the Oxen
be paved with Stone, that the Filth and Dung
may not rot their Hoofs. Under Horses, make
a Trench in the Pavement, and cover it with
Planks of Holm or Oak, that their Urine may
not settle under them, and that by their pawing
they may not spoil both their Hoofs and the
Pavement.

CHAP. XVI.

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1

That the Industry of the Farmer or Overseer ought to be employed as well about
all Sorts of Animals, as about the Fruits of the Earth; as also of the Con-
struction of the Threshing- floor.

We shall just briefly mention that the
Industry of the Overseer, is not only
to be employed about gathering in the Fruits
of the Earth, but also about the Management
and Improvement of Cattle, Fowls, Fish and
other Animals. Set the Stalls for Cattle in a
dry Place, and never in a Damp one; clear
away every little Stone from under them, and
make them with a Slope, that you may easily
sweep and clean them; let one Paid of them
be covered, and the other open, and take Care
that no southerly or other moist Wind can af-
fect the Cattle in the Night, and that they be
sheltered from all other troublesome Blasts.

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For a Place to keep Rabbits in, build a Wall
of square Stone, with its Foundations dug so
low as to be in Water; within the Space en-
closed make a Floor of male Sand, with little
Flillocks here and there of Fuller’ s Earth. Let
your Poultry have a Shed in the Yard facing
the South, and thick strewed with Ashes, and
over this Places for them to lay their Eggs,
and Perches to roost upon in the Night. Some
are for keeping their Poultry in large Coops in
some handsome inclofed Area facing the East;
but those that are defigned for laying and
hatching of Eggs, as they are more cheerful,
having their Liberty, so too they are more
fruitful; whereas, those which are kept in a
dark confined Place, seldom bring their Eggs
to any Thing. Place your Dove-house so as
to be in View of Water, and do not make it
too lofty, but of such an easy Fleigth, that the
Pidgeons wearied with flying, or after sporting
about in the Air with one another, may gent-
ly glide down upon it with Ease and Pleasure.
Some there are who say that when the Pidgeon
has found her Meat in the Field, the farther she
has it to carry to her Young, the Fatter she
makes them with it; and the Reason they give
is, because the Meat which they carry Home
to feed their Young in their Crop, by staying
there a good While is half concocted; and up-
on this Account, they are for placing the Dove-
house on some very high steep Situation. They
think too, that it is best for the Dove-house to
be at a pretty good Distance from its Water,
that the Pidgeons may not chill their Eggs by
coming to them with their Feet wet. If in
one Corner of the Tower you enclose a Kastrel,
it will secure your Dove-house from Birds of
Prey. If under the Door you bury the Flead
of a Wolf strewed over with Cummin-seed, in
an earthen Vessel full of Floles for the Smell to

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get out, it will bring you an infinite Number
of Pidgeons. If you make your Dove-house
Floor of Chalk, and wet it thoroughly with
Man’ s Urine, you will bring Multitudes of
Pidgeons from the Seats of their Ancestors, to
take up their Abode with you. Before the
Windows let there be Cornices of Stone, or of
Olive-wood, projecting out a Cubit, for the
Pidgeons to light upon at their coming Flome,
and to take their Flight from at their going
Abroad. If the Young ones which are con-
fined have a View of Trees and the Sky before
they can fly, it will make them Droop and
Pine away. Other smaller Birds which you
have a Desire to breed, ought to have their
Nests and Apartments made for them in some
warm Place. Those which walk more than
they fly, should have them low, and upon the
Ground itself; for others they should be made
higher. Each should have a separate Apart-
ment, divided by Partitions on each Side to
keep their Eggs or Young from falling out of
the Nest. Clay is better to make the Nests of
than Lime, and Lime than Terrass. All Sort
of old Stone new cut is bad; Bricks are better
than Turf, if not too much baked. The Wood
either of Poplar or Fir is very useful. All the
Apartments for Birds ought to be smooth, clean
and sweet, and especially sor Pidgeons. Even
four footed Beasts, if kept nasty, will grow
Scabby. Let every Part, therefore, be well
done over with Rough-cast, and plaistered and
white washed, not leaving the least Cranny un-
stopped, that Pole-cats, Weezels, Newts, or the
like Vermin may not destroy the Eggs, or the
Young, or prejudice the Wall; and be sure to
make convenient Places to keep their Meat and
Water in. It will be very Convenient for this
Puipose to have a Moat quite round your Flouse,
wherein your Geese, Ducks, Flogs and Cows

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may water and wash themselves, and near
which, in all Weathers, they may have as much
Meat lying ready for them as they will eat.

Let the Water and Meat for your smaller
Fowls be kept in Tunnels along the Wall, so
that they may not seatter or dirty it with their
Feet; and you may have Pipes into these Tun-
nels from without, through which you may
convey their Food into them. In the Middle,
let there be a Place for them to wash in, with
a constant supply of clean Water. Make your
Pish-pond in a chalky Soil, and dig it so deep
that the Water may neither be over heated by
the Rays of the Sun, nor too easily frozen up
by the Cold. Moreover, make some Caverns
in the Sides, for the Fish to run into upon any
sudden Disturbance of the Water, that they
may not be wasted and worn away by conti-
nual Alarms. Fish are nourished by the Juices
of the Earth; great Fleat torments them, and
extreme Frost kills them; but they arc very
much pleased and delighted by the Mid-day
Sun. It is thought not amiss to have the tur-
bid Floods after Rains flow into the Pond some-
times; but never upon the first Rain after the
Dog-days; because they then have a strong
Tincture of Lime, and will kill the Fish; and
afterwards too they should be admitted but
rarely, because their stinking Slime is apt to
prejudice both the Fish and Water too; but

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still there ought to be a continual Flux and
Reflux of Water, either from some Spring,
River, Lake or Sea. But concerning Fish-
ponds which are to be supplied by the Sea-wa-
ter, the Ancients have given us fuller Instruc-
tions, in the following Manner. A muddy Soil
affords the best Nourithment for flat Fish, such
as Soals and the like, and a sandy is best for
shell Fish. The Sea itself is best for others, as
the Dory and Shark; and the Sea-thrust and
Whiting feed best among the Rocks where
they arc naturally bred Lastly, they say that
there can be no better Pond for keeping Fish
in, than one so situated that the Waves of the
Sea which flow into it are continually remov-
ing those which were in it before, not suffering
the Water ever to stagnate, and that the slower
the Water is in renewing, the less wholesome
it is. And thus much may suffice as to the
Care and Industry of the Farmer or Overseer,
in the Affairs abovementioned. But we must
not here omit the chief Thing needful with Re-
lation to the gathering together and storing up
the Fruits of the Flarvest, and that is the
Threshing-floor which ought to lie open to the
Sun and Air, and not far from the Shed men-
tioned before, that upon any sudden Rain you
may immediately remove both your Grain and
Workmen into Shelter. In order to make your
Floor, you need not give yourself the Trouble
to lay the Ground exactly level; but only
plain it pretty even, and then dig it up and
throw a good Quantity of Lees of Oil upon it,
and let it soak in thoroughly; then break the
Clods very small and lay them down even,
either with a Roller or a Flarrow, and beat it
down close with a Rammer; then pour some
more Lees of Oil upon it, and when this is
dried into it, neither Mice, nor Ants will come
a-near it, neither will it ever grow poachy or

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produce Grass or Weeds. Chalk likewise adds
a good Deal of Firmness to a Work of this
Nature. And thus much for the Habitation
of the Labourers.

CHAP. XVII.

Of the Country House for a Gen tleman; its various Parts, and the proper
Disposition of each of those Parts.

Some are of Opinion that a Gentleman’ s
Country House should have quite diffe-
rent Conveniencies for Summer and for Win-
ter; and the Rules they give for this Puipose
are these: The Bed-chambers for the Winter
should look towards the Point at which the
Sun rises in Winter, and the Parlour, towards
the Equinoctial Sun-setting; whereas the Bed-
chambers for Summer should look to the South,
the Parlours, to the Winter Sun-rising, and the
Portico or Place for walking in, to the South.

But, in my Opinion, all these Conveniencies
ought to be varied according to the Difference
of the Country and Climate, so as to temper
Heat by Cold and Dry by Moist. I do not
think it necessary for the Gentleman’ s House
to stand in the most fruitful Part of his whole
Estate, but rather in the most Honourable,
where he can uncontrolled enjoy all the Pleasures
and Conveniencies of Air, Sun, and fine Pro-
spects, go down easily at any Time into his
Estate, receive Strangers handsomely and spaci-
ously, be seen by Passengers for a good Way
round, and have a View of some City, Towns,
the Sea, an open Plain, and the Tops of some
known Hills and Mountains. Let him have
the Delights of Gardens, and the Diversions of
Fishing and Hunting close under his Eye. We
have in another Place observed, that of the dif-
ferent Members of a House, some belong to the

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whole Family in general, other to a certain
Number of Persons in it, and others again on-
ly to one or more Persons separately. In our
Country House, with Regard to those Members
which belong to the whole Family in general,
let us imitate the Prince’ s Palace. Before the
Door let there be a large open Space, for the
Exercises either of Chariot or Horse Racing,
much longer than a Youth can either draw a
Bow or throw a Dart. Within the House,
with Regard to those Conveniencies necessary
for a Number of Persons in the Family, let
there not be wanting open Places for Walking,
Swimming, and other Diversions, Court-yards,
Grass-plots and Porticoes, where the old Men
may chat together in the kindly Warmth of
the Sun in Winter, and where the Family may
divert themselves and enjoy the Shade in Sum-
mer. It is manifest some Parts of the House
are for the Family themselves, and others for

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the Things necessary and useful to the Family.
The Family consists of the following Persons:
The Flusband, the Wife, their Children and
Relations, and all the different Sorts of Ser-
vants attendant upon these; besides which.
Guests too are to be reckoned as Part of the
Family. The Things usesul to the Family are
Provisions and all Manner of Necessaries, such
as Cloths, Arms, Books, and Florses also. The
principal Member of the whole Building, is
that which (whatever Names others may give
it) I shall call the Court-yard with its Portico;
next to this is the Parlour, within this the Bed-
chambers, and lastly, the private Rooms for
the particular Uses of each Person in the Fa-
mily. The other Members of the Flouse are
sufficiently known by their Uses. The Court-
yard therefore is the principal Member, to
which all the other smaller Members must cor-
respond, as being in a Manner a publick Mar-
ket-place to the whole Flouse, which from this
Court-yard derives all the Advantages of Com-
munication and Light. For this Reason every
one desires to have his Court-yard as spacious,
large, open, handsome and convenient as pos-
sible. Some content themselves with one Court-
yard, others are for having more, and for en-
closing them all with very high Walls, or some
with higher and some with lower; and they
are for having them some covered and others
open, and others again half covered and half
uncovered; in some they would have a Portico
only on one Side, in others on two or more,
and in others all round; and these Porticoes,
lastly, some would build with flat, others with
arched Rooss. Upon these Pleads I have no-
thing more to say, but that Regal’d must be had
to the Climate and Season, and to Necessity
and Convenience; so as in cold Countries to
ward against the bleak North-wind, and the

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Severity of the Air and Soil; and in hot Cli-
mates, to avoid the troublesome and scorching
Rays of the Sun. Admit the pleasantest
Breezes on all Sides, and such a gratesul Quan-
tity of Light as is necessary; but do not let
your Court-yard be exposed to any noxious
Vapours exhaled from any damp Place, nor to
frequent hasty Showers from some overlooking
Hill in the Neighbourhood. Exactly answer-
ing the Middle of your Court-yard place your
Entrance, with a handsome Vestibule, neither
narrow, difficult or obscure. Let the first Room
that offers itself be a Chapel dedicated to God,
with its Altar, where Strangers and Guests may
offer their Devotions, beginning their Friend-
ship by Religion; and where the Father of the
Family may put up his Prayers for the Peace
of his House and the Welfare of his Relations.
Here let him embrace those who come to visit
him, and if any Cause be referred to him by his
Friends, or he has any other serious Business
of that Nature to transact, let him do it in this
Place. Nothing is handsomer in the Middle
of the Portico, than Windows of Glass, through
which you may receive the Pleasure either of
Sun or Air, according to the Season. Martial
says, that Windows looking to the South, re-
ceive a pure Sun and a clear Light; and the
Ancients thought it best to place their Porti-
coes fronting the South, because the Sun in
Summer running his Course higher, did not
throw in his Rays, where they would enter in
Winter. The Prospect of Hills to the South,
when those Hills, on the Side which you have
a View of, are continually covered with Clouds
and Vapours, is not very pleasant, if they are
at a great Distance; and if they are near, and
in a Manner just over your Head, they will
incommode you with chill Shadows and cold
Rimes; but if they are at a convenient Dif-

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tance, they are both pleasant and convenient,
because they defend you from the southern
Winds. Hills towards the North reverberating
the Rays of the Sun, encrease the Heat; but at
a pretty good Distance, they are very delight-
ful, because the Clearness of the Air, which is
always serene in such a Situation, and the
Brightness of the Sun, which it always enjoys,
is extremely chearful to the Sight. Hills to the
East and so likewise to the West, will make
your Mornings cold and the Dews plentisul,
if they are near you; but both, if at some toler-
able Distance, are wonderfully Pleasant. So
too, Rivers and Lakes are inconvenient if too
near, and afford no Delight, if too far off:
Whereas, on the Contrary, the Sea, if it is at
a large Distance, makes both your Air and Sun
unhealthy; but when it is close to you, it does
you less Harm, because then you have always
an Equality in your Air. Indeed there is this
to be said, that when it is at a great Distance,
it encreases the Desire we have to see it. There
is a good Deal too in the Point to which we
lie open to it: For if you are exposed to the
Sea towards the South, it scorches you; if to-
wards the East, it infests you with Damps; if
to the West, it makes your Air cloudy and full
of Vapours; and if to the North, it chills you
with excessive Cold. From the Court-yard
we proceed to the Parlours, which must be

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contrived for different Seasons, some to be used
n Summer, others in Winter; and others as we
may say in the middle Seasons. Parlours for
Summer require Water and the Verdure of
Gardens; those for Winter, must be warm and
have good Fire-places. Both should be large,
pleasant and delicate. There are many Ar-
guments to convince us that Chimnies were in
Use among the Ancients; but not such as ours
are now. One of the Ancients says, the Tops
of the Houses smoke, Etfumant culmina tecti:
And we find it continues the same all over
Italy to this Day, except in Lombardy and
Tuscany, and that the Mouths of none of the
Chimnies rise higher than the Tops of the
Houses. Vitruvius says, that in Winter Par-
lours it is ridiculous to adorn the Ceiling with
handsome Painting, because it will be present-
ly spoilt by the constant Smoke and continual
Fires; for which Reason the Ancients used to
paint those Ceilings with Black, that it might
seem to be done by the Smoke itself. I find
too, that they made Use of a purified Sort of
Wood, that was quite clear of Smoke, like our
Charcoal, upon which Account it was a Dis-
pute among the Lawyers, whether or no Coal
was to come under the Denomination of Wood;
and therefore it is probable they generally used
moveable Healths or Chafing-pans either of
Brass or Iron, which they carried from Place to
Place where-everthey had Occasion to make a
Fire. And perhaps that warlike Race of Men,
hardened by continual Incampments, did not
make so much Use of Fire as we do now; and
Physicians will not allow it wholesome, to be
too much by the Fire-side. Aristotle says,
that the Flesh of Animals gains its Firmness
and Solidity from Cold; and those whose Busi-
ness it is to take Notice of Things of this Na-
ture have observed, that those working Men

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who are continually employed about the Fur-
nace have generally dry wrinkled Skins; the
Reason of which they say is, because the Jui-
ces, of which the Flesh is formed, are exhaust-
ed by the Fire, and evaporate in Steam. In
Germany, Colchos, and other Places, where Fire
is absolutely necessary against the extreme
Cold, they make Use of Stoves; of which we
shall speak elsewhere. Let us return to the
Chimney, which may be best made serviceable
in the following Manner. It must be as direct
as possible, capacious, not too far from the
Light, it must not draw the Wind too much,
but enough however to carry up the Smoke,
which else would not go up the Tunnel. For
these Reasons do not make it just in a Corner,
nor too far within the Wall, nor let it take up
the best Part of the Room where your chief
Guests ought to sit. Do not let it be in-
commoded by the Air either of Doors or Win-
dows, nor should it project too sar out into the
Room. Let its Tunnel be very wide and car-
ried up perpendicular, and let the Top of it
rise above the highest Part of the whole Build-
ing; and this not only upon Account of the
Danger of Fire, but also to prevent the Smoke
from being driven down the Chimney again by
any Eddy of Wind on the Top of the Flouse.
Smoke being hot naturally mounts, and the
Fleat of the Flame quickens its Ascent: When
it comes therefore into the Tunnel of the
Chimney, it is compressed and straitened as in
a Channel, and being pushed on by the Fleat
of the Fire, is thrust out in the same Manner
as the Sound is out of a Trumpet. And as a
Trumpet, if it is too big, does not give a clear
Sound, because the Air has Room to rowl about
in it; the same will hold good with Relation
to the Smoke in a Chimney. Let the Top of
the Chimney be covered to keep out Rain, and

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all round the Sides let there be wide Holes for
the Passage of the Smoke, with Breaks projec-
ting out between each Hole to keep off the
Violence of the Wind. Where this is not so
convenient, erect an upright Pin, and on it hang
a brass Cover broad enough to take in the
whole Mouth of the Chimney, and let this Co-
ver have a Vane at the Top like a Sort of
Crest, which like a Helm may turn it round
according to the Wind. Another very good
Method also is to set on the Chimney Top some
Spire like a Hunter’ s Horn, either of Brass or
baked Earth, broader at one End than the
other, with the broad End turned downwards
to the Mouth of the Chimney; by which
means the Smoke being received in at the
broad End, will force its Way out at the Nar-
row, in Spite of the Wind. To the Parlours
we must accommodate the Kitchen, and the
Pantry for setting by what is left after Meals,
together with all Manner of Vessels and Linen.
The Kitchen ought to be neither just under the
Noses of the Guests, nor at too great a Dis-
tance; but so that the Victuals may be brought
in neither too hot nor too cold, and that the
Noise of the Scullions, with the Clatter of
their Pans, Dishes and other Utensils, may not
be troublesome. The Passage through which
the Victuals are to be carried, should be hand-
some and convenient, not open to the Weather,

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nor dishonoured by any Filth that may offend
the Stomachs of the Guests. From the Par-
lour the next Step is to the Bed-chamber; and
for a Man of Figure and Elegance, there should
be different o es of these latter, as well as of
the former, for Summer and for Winter. This
puts me in Mind of Lucullus ’ s Saying, that it
is not fit a great Man should be worse lodged
than a Swallow or a Crane. Flowever I shall
only set down such Rules, with Relation to
these Apartments, as are compatible with the
greatest Modesty and Moderation. I remem-
ber to have read in A Emilius Probus the Histo-
rian, that among the Greeks it was never usual
for the Wife to appear – at Table, if any body
was there besides Relations; and that the A-
partments for the Women, were Parts of the
Flouse where no Men ever set his Foot except
the nearest Kindred. And indeed I must own
I think the Apartments for the Ladies, ought
to be sacred like Places dedicated to Religion
and Chastity. I am besides for having the
Rooms particularly designed for Virgins and
young Ladies, fitted up in the neatest and most
delicate Manner, that their tender Minds may
pass their Time in them with less Regret and
be as little weary of themselves as possible. The
Mistress of the Lamily should have an Apart-
ment, in which she may easily hear every
Thing that is done in the Flouse. Flowever,
in these Particulars, the Customs of every
Country are always to be principally observed.
The Husband and the Wife should each have
a separate Chamber, not only that the Wife,
either when she lies in, or in Case of any other
Indisposition, may not be troublesome to her
Husband; but also that in Summer Time,
either of them may lie alone whenever they
think fit. Each of these Chambers should have
its separate Door, besides which there should

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be a common Passage between them both, that
one may go to the other without being observ-
ed by any body. The Wife’ s Chamber should
go into the Wardrobe; the Husband’ s into the
Library. Their ancient Mother, who requires
Tranquility and Repose, should have a warm
Chamber, well secured against the Cold, and
out of the Way of all Noises either from with-
in or without. Be sure particularly to let it
have a good Fire-place, and all other Conve-
niencies necessary for an infirm Person, to com-
fort and cheer both the Body and Mind. Out
of this Chamber let there be a Passage to the
Place where you keep your Treasure. Here
place the Boys; and by the Wardrobe the
Girls, and near them the Lodgings for the
Nurses. Strangers and Guests should be lodged
in Chambers near the Vestibule or Fore-gate;
that they may have full Freedom both in their
own Actions, and in receiving Visits from their
Friends, without disturbing the Rest of the Fa-
mily. The Sons of fixteen or seventeen Years
old, should have Apartments opposite to the
Guests, or at least not far from them, that
they may have an Opportunity to converse and
grow familial – with them. The Strangers too
should have some Place to themselves, where
they may lock up any Thing private or valu-
able, and take it out again whenever they
think fit. Next to the Lodgings of the young
Gentlemen, should be the Place where the
Arms are kept. Stewards, Officers and Ser-
vants should be so lodged asunder from the
Gentlemen, that each may have a convenient
Place, suitable to his respective Business. The
Maid-servants and Valets should always be
within easy Call, to be ready upon any Occa-
sion that they are wanted for. The Butler’ s
Lodging should be near both to the Vault and
Pantry. The Grooms should lie near the Stable.

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The Saddle-horses ought not to be kept in the
same Place with those of Draught or Burthen;
and they should be placed where they cannot
offend the House with any Smells, nor pre-
judice it by their Kicking, and out of all Danger
of Fire. Corn and all Manner of Grain is spoilt
by Moisture, tarnished and turned pale by
Heat, shrunk by Wind, and rotted by the
Touch of Lime. Where-ever therefore you in-
tend to lay it, whether in a Cave, Pit, Vault,
or on an open Area, be sure that the Place be
thoroughly dry and perfectly clean and new
made. Josephus affirms, that there was Corn
dug up near Siboli perfectly good and sound,
though it had lain hid above an hundred
Years. Some say, that Barley laid in a warm
Place, will not spoil; but it will keep very
little above a Year. The Philosophers tell us,
that Bodies are prepared sor Corruption by
Moisture, but are asterwards actually corrupt-
ed by Heat. If you make a Floor in your
Granary of Lees of Oil mixed with Potter’ s
Clay and S part or Shaw chopt small, and beat
well together, your Grain will keep sound up-
on it a great While, and be neither spoilt by
Weevil nor stolen by the Ant. Granaries de-
signed only for Seeds are best built of unbaked
Bricks. The North-wind is less prejudicial
than the South to all Stores of Seeds and Fruits;
but any Wind whatsoever blowing from damp

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Places will fill them with Maggots and Worms;
andany constant impetuous Wind willmake them
shrivelled and withered. For Pulse and espe-
cially Beans make a Floor of Ashes mixed with
Lees and Oil. Keep Apples in some very close,
but cool boarded Room. Aristotle is of Opi-
nion, that they will keep the whole Year round
in Bladders blown up and tied close. The In-
constancy of the Air is what spoils every
Thing; and therefore keep every Breath of it
from your Apples, if possible; and particularly
the North-wind, which is thought to shrivel
them up. We are told that Vaults for Wine
should lie deep under Ground, and be very close
stopt up; and yet there are some Wines which
decay in the Shade. Wine is spoilt by the
Eastern, Southern and Western Winds, and
especially in the Winter or the Spring. If it is
touched even by the North-wind in the Dog-
days, it will receive Injury. The Rays of the
Sun make it heady; those of the Moon, thick.

If it is in the least stirred, it loses its Spirit and
grows weak. Wine will take any Smell that
is near it, and will grow dead near a Stink.

When it is kept in a dry cool Place, always
equally tempered, it will remain good for many
Years. Wine, says Columella, so long as it is
kept cool, so long it will keep good. Make
your Vault for Wine therefore in a steady
Place, never shaken by any Sort of Carriages;
and its Sides and Lights should be towards the
North. All Manner of Filth and ill Smells,
Damps, Vapours, Smoke, the Stinks of all
Sorts of rotten Garden-stuff, Onions, Cabbage,
wild or domestick Figs, should by all Means
be quite shut out. Let the Lloor of your Vault
be pargetted, and in the Middle make a little
Trench, to save any Wine that may be spilt by
the Lault of the Vessels. Some make their
Vessels themselves of Stue or Stone. The big-

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ger the Vessel is, the more Spirit and Strength
will be in the Wine. Oil delights in a warm
Shade, and cannot endure any cold Wind; and
is spoilt by Smoke or any other Steam. We
shall not dwell upon coarser Matters; namely,
how there ought to be two Places for keeping
Dung in, one for the Old, and another for the
New; that it loves the Sun and Moisture, and
is dried up and exhausted by the Wind; but
shall only give this general Rule, that those
Places which are most liable to Danger by Fire,
as Flay-lofts and the like, and those which are
unpleasant either to the Sight or Smell, ought
to be set out of the Way and separated by
themselves. It may not be amiss just to men-
tion here, that the Dung of Oxen will not
breed Serpents. But there is one filthy Prac-
tise which I cannot help taking Notice of. We
take Care in the Country to set the Dunghill
out of the Way in some remote Corner, that
the Smell may not offend our Ploughmen;
and yet in our own Flouses, in our best Cham-
bers (where we ourselves are to rest) and as it
were at our very Bolsters, we are so unpolite as
to make secret Privies, or rather Store-rooms of
Stink. If a Man is Sick, let him make use of
a Close-stool; but when he is in Flealth, sure-
ly such Nastiness cannot be too far off. It is
worth observing how careful Birds are, and par-
ticularly Swallows, to keep their Nests clean
and neat for their young ones. The Example
Nature herein sets us is wonderful. Even the
young Swallows, as soon as ever Time has
strengthened their Limbs will never Mute, but
out of the Nest; and the old ones, to keep the
Filth at a still greater Distance, will catch it
in their Bills as it is falling, to carry it further
off from their own Nest. Since Nature has
given us this excellent Instruction, I think we
ought by no means to neglect it.

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CHAP. XVIII.

The Difference between the Country House and Town House for the Rich.
The Habitations of the middling Sort ought to resemble those of the Rich;
at least in Proportion to their Circumstances. Buildings should be contrived
more for Summer, than for Win ter.

The Country House and Town House
for the Rich differ in this Circum-
stance; that they use their Country House
chiefly for a Habitation in the Summer, and
their Town House as a convenient Place of
Shelter in the Winter. In their Country House
therefore they enjoy the Pleasures of Light,

Air, spacious Walks and fine Prospects; in

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Town, there are but few Pleasures, but those
of Luxury and the Night. It is sufficient there-
fore if in Town they can have an Abode that
does not want any Conveniencies for living
with Health, Dignity and Politeness: But yet,
as far as the Want of Room and Prospect will
admit, our Habitation in Town should not be
without any of the Delicacies of that in the
Country. We should be sure to have a good
Court-yard, Portico, Places for Exercise, and
some Garden. If you are crampt for Room,
and cannot make all your Conveniencies upon
one Floor, make several Stories, by which
means you may make the Members of your
House as large as is necessary; and if the Na-
ture of your Foundation will allow it, dig
Places under Ground for your Wines, Oil, Wood,
and even some Paid of your Family, and such
a Basement will add Majesty to your whole
Structure. Thus you may build as many Stories
as you please, till you have fully provided for
all the Occasions of your Family. The prin-
cipal Parts may be allotted to the principal Oc-
casions; and the most Honourable, to the most
Honourable. No Store-rooms should be want-
ing for laying up Corn, Fruits, and all Manner
of Tools, Implements and Houshold-stuff;
nor Places for divine Worship; nor Wardrobes
for the Women. Nor must you be without
convenient Store-rooms for laying up Cloaths
designed for your Family to wear only on Ho-
lidays, and Arms both desensive and offensive,
Implements for all Sorts of Works in Wool,
Preparations for the Entertainment of Guests,
and all Manner of Necessaries for any extraor-
dinary Occasions. There should be different
Places for those Things that are not wanted
above once a Month, or perhaps once a Year,
and for those that are in Use every Day. Every
one of which, though they cannot be always

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kept lockt up in Store-rooms, ought however
to be kept in some Place where they may be
constantly in Sight; and especially such Things
as are seldomest in Use; because those Things
which arc most in Sight, are least in Danger
of Thieves. The Habitations of middling Peo-
ple ought to resemble the Delicacy of those of
the richer Sort, in Proportion to their Circum-
stances; still imitating them with such Mode-
ration, as not to run into a greater Expence
than they can well support. The Country
Houses for these, therefore, should be contrived
with little less Regard to their Flocks and
Herds, than to their Wives. Their Dove-
house, Fish-ponds, and the like should be less
for Pleasure, than for Prosit: But yet their
Country House should be built in such a Man-
ner, that the Wife may like the Abode, and
look after her Business in it with Pleasure; nor
should we have our Eye so entirely upon Pro-
fit, as to neglect the Health of the Inhabitants.
Whenever we have Occasion for Change of
Air, Celsus advises us to take it in Winter; for
our Bodies will grow accustomed to Winter
Colds, with less Danger of our Health than to
Summer Heats. But we, on the Contrary, are
fond of going to our Country Houses chiefly
in Summer; we ought therefore to take Care
to have that the most Healthy. As for the
Town House for a Tradesman, more Regard
must be had to the Conveniency of his Shop,
from whence his Gain and Fivelihood is to
arise than to the Beauty of his Parlour; the
best Situation for this is, in Cross-ways, at a
Corner; in a Market-place or Square, in the
Middle of the Place; in a High-street, some
remarkable jutting out; inasmuch as his chief
Design is to draw the Eyes of Customers. In
the middle Parts of his House he need have no
Partitions but of unbaked Bricks and common

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Plaister; but in the Front and Sides, as he can-
not always be sure of having honest Neighbours,
he must make his Walls stronger against the
Assaults both of Men and Weather. Fie should
also build his Flouse either at such a proper
Distance from his next Neighbour’ s, that there
may be room for the Air to dry the Walls af-
ter any Rain; or so close, that the Water may
run off from both in the same Gutter; and let
the Top of the Flouse, and the Gutters parti-
cularly, have a very good Slope, that the Rain
may neither lie soaking too long, nor dash back
into the Flouse; but be earned away as quick
and as clear as possible. There remains no-
thing now but to recollect some few Rules laid
down in the first Book, and which seem to be-
long to this Flead. Let those Parts of the
Building which are to be particularly secure
against Fire, and the Injuries of the Weather,
or which are to be closer or freer from Noise,
be all vaulted; so likewise should all Places un-
der Ground: But for Rooms above Ground,
flat Ceilings are wholesomer. Those which
require the clearest Light, such as the common
Parlour, the Portico, and especially the Library,
should be situated full East? Those Things
which are injured by Moths, Rust or Milldew,
such as Cloaths, Books, Arms, and all Manner

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of Provisions, should be kept towards the
South or West. If there be Occasion for an
equal constant Light, such as is necessary for
Painters, Writers, Sculptors and the like, let
them have it from the North. Lastly, let all
Summer Apartments stand open to the Northern
Winds, all Winter ones to the South, and all
those for Spring and Autumn to the East. Baths
and supper Parlours for the Spring Season should
be towards the West. And if you cannot pos-
sibly have all these exactly according to your
Wish, at least chuse out the most convenient
Places for your Summer Apartments: For in-
deed, in my Opinion, a wise Man should build
rather for Summer than for Winter. We may
easily arm ourselves against the Cold by ma-
king all close, and keeping good Fires; but
many more Things are requisite against Heat,
and even all will sometimes be no great Re-
lief. Fet Winter Rooms therefore be small,
low and little Windows, and Summer ones, on
the Contrary, large, spacious, and open to cool
Breezes, but not to the Sun or the hot Air
that comes from it. A great Quantity of Air
inclosed in a large Room, is like a great Quan-
tity of Water, not easily heated.

The End of Book V.

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1

THE

ARCHITECTURE

OF

Leone Batista Alberti.

BOOK VI. CHAP. I.

Of the Reason and Difficulty of the Author’ s Undertaking, whereby it appears
how much Pains, Study and Application he has employed in writing upon
these Matters.

In the five preceding Books we have
treated of the Designs, of the Ma-
terials for the Work, of the Work-
men, and of every Thing else that
appeared necessary to the Con-
struction of an Edisice, whether publick or
private, sacred or profane, so far as related to
its being made strong against all Injuries of
Weather, and convenient for its respective Use,
as to Times Places, Men and Things: With
how much Care we have treated of all these
Matters, you may see by the Books themselves,
from whence you may judge whether it was
possible to do it with much greater. The La-
bour indeed was much more than I could have
foreseen at the Beginning of this Undertaking.

Continual Difficulties every Moment arose
either in explaining the Matter, or inventing
Names, or methodizing the Subject, which per-
sectly consounded me, and disheartened me
from my Undertaking. On the other Hand,
the same Reasons which induced me to be be-
gin this Work, pressed and encouraged me to
proceed. It grieved me that so many great
and noble Instructions of ancient Authors
should be lost by the Injury of Time, so that
scai’cc any but Vitruvius has escaped this ge-
neral Wreek: A Writer indeed of universal
Knowledge, but so maimed by Age, that in

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many Places there are great Chasms, and many
Things imperfect in others. Besides this, his
Style is absolutely void of all Ornaments, and
he wrote in such a Manner, that to the Latins
he seems to write Greek, and to the Greeks,
Latin: But indeed it is plain from the Book
itself, that he wrote neither Greek nor Latin,
and he might almost as well have never
wrote at all, at least with Regard to us, since
we cannot understand him. There remained
many Examples of the ancient Works, Temples
and Theatres, from whence, as from the most
skilful Masters, a great deal was to be learn-
ed; but these I saw, and with Tears I saw it,
mouldering away daily. I observed too that
those who in these Days happen to undertake
any new Structure, generally ran after the
Whims of the Moderns, instead of being de-
lighted and directed by the Justness of more
noble Works. By this Means it was plain, that
this Part of Knowledge, and in a Manner of
Life itself, was likely in a short Time to be
wholly lost. In this unhappy State of Things,

I could not help having it long, and often, in
my Thoughts to write upon this Subject my-
self. At the same Time I considered that in
the Examination of so many noble and useful

354

Matters, and so necessary to Mankind; it would
be a Shame to neglect any of those Observati-
ons which voluntarily offered themselves to me
and I thought it the Duty of an honest and
studious Mind, to endeavour to free this Sci-
ence, for which the most Learned among the
Ancients had always a very great Esteem, from
its present Ruin and Oppression. Thus I stood
doubtful, and knew not how to resolve, whe-
ther I should drop my Design, or go on. At
length my Love and Inclination for these Stu-
dies prevailed; and what I wanted in Capacity,

I made up in Diligence and Application. There
was not the least Remain of any ancient Struc-
ture, that had any Merit in it, but what I went
and examined, to see if any Thing was to be
learned from it. Thus I was continually search-
ing, considering, measuring and making
Draughts of every Thing I could hear of, till
such Time as I had made myself perfect Ma-
ster of every Contrivance or Invention that had
been used in those ancient Remains; and thus
I alleviated the Fatigue of writing, by the
Thirst and Pleasure of gaining Information.

And indeed the Collecting together, rehearsing
without Meanness, reducing into a just Method,
writing in an accurate Style, and explaining
perspicuously so many various Matters, so un-
equal, so dispersed, and so remote from the
common Use and Knowledge of Mankind,
certainly required a greater Genius, and more
Learning than I can pretend to. But still I
shall not repent of my Labour, if I have only
effected what I chiefly proposed to myself,
namely, to be clear and intelligible to the
Reader, rather than Eloquent. How difficult
a Thing this is, in handling Subjects of this
Nature, is better known to those who have
attempted it, then believed by those who never
fried it. And I flatter myself, it will at least

1

be allowed me, that I have wrote according to
the Rules of this Language, and in no obscure
Style. We shall endeavour to do the same in
the remaining Parts of this Work. Of the
three Properties required in all Manner of
Buildings, namely, that they be accommoda-
ted to their respective Puiposes, stout and
strong for Duration, and pleasant and delight-
ful to the Sight, we have dispatched the two
first, and are now to treat of the third, which
is by much the most Noble of all, and very
necessary besides.

CHAP. II.

Of Beauty and Ornament, their Effects and Difference, that they are owing
to Art and Exactness of Proportion; as also of the Birth and Progress
of Arts.

It is generally allowed, that the Pleasure and
Delight which we feel on the View of any
Building, arise from nothing else but Beauty
and Ornament, since there is hardly any Man
so melancholy or stupid, so rough or unpolish-
ed, but what is very much pleased with what
is beautiful, and pursues those Things which
are most adorned, and rejects the unadorned
and neglected; and if in any Thing that he
Views he perceives any Ornament is wanting,
he declares that there is something deficient
which would make the Work more delightful
and noble. We should therefore consult Beauty
as one of the main and principal Requisites in
any Thing which we have a Mind should please
others. How necessary our Forefathers, Men
remarkable for their Wisdom, looked upon this
to be, appears, as indeed from almost every
thing they did, so particularly from their Laws,
their Militia, their sacred and all other pub-
lick Ceremonies; which it is almost incredible

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1

what Pains they took to adorn; insomuch that
one would almost imagine they had a Mind to
have it thought, that all these Things (so ab-
solutely necessary to the Life of Mankind) if
stript of their Pomp and Ornament, would be
somewhat stupid and insipid. When we lift
up our Eyes to Heaven, and view the wonder-
ful Works of God, we admire him more for
the Beauties which we see, than for the Con-
veniencies which we feel and derive from
them. But what Occasion is there to insist upon
this? When wesee that Nature consults Beauty
in a Manner to excess, in every Thing she does,
even in painting the Flowers of the Field. If
Beauty therefore is necessary in any Thing, it
is so particularly in Building, which can never
be without it, without giving Offence both to
the Skilful and the Ignorant. How are we
moved by a huge shapeless ill-contrived Pile

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of Stones? the greater it is, the more we blame
the Folly of the Expence, and condemn the
Builder’ s inconsiderate Lust of heaping up Stone
upon Stone without Contrivance. The having
satisfied Necessity is a very small Matter, and
the having provided for Conveniency affords
no Manner of Pleasure, where you are shocked
by the Deformity of the Work. Add to this,
that the very Thing we speak of is itself no
small help to Conveniency and Duration: For
who will deny that it is much more convenient
to be lodged in a neat handsome Structure,
than in a nasty ill-contrived Flole? or can any
Building be made so strong by all the Contri-
vance of Art, as to be safe from Violence and
Force? But Beauty will have such an Effect
even upon an enraged Enemy, that it will dis-
arm his Anger, and prevent him from offering
it any Injury: Insomuch that I will be bold to
say, there can be no greater Security to any
Work against Violence and Injury, than Beau-
ty and Dignity. Your whole Care, Diligence
and Expence, therefore should all tend to this,
that whatever you build may be not only use-
ful and convenient, but also handsomely
adorned, and by that means delightful to the
Sight, that whoever views it may own the Ex-
pence could never have been better bestowed.
But what Beauty and Ornament are in them-
selves, and what Difference there is between
them, may perhaps be easier for the Reader to
conceive in his Mind, than for me to explain
by Words. In order therefore to be as brief
as possible, I shall define Beauty to be a Har-
mony of all the Parts, in whatsoever Subject it
appears, fitted together with such Proportion
and Connection, that nothing could be added,
diminished or altered, but for the Worse. A
Quality so Noble and Divine, that the whole
Force of Wit and Art has been spent to pro-

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1

cure it; and it is but very rarely granted to any
one, or even to Nature herself, to produce any
Thing every Way perfect and compleat. How
extraordinary a Thing (says the Person intro-
duced in Tully ) is a handsome Youth in Athens!
This Critick in Beauty found that there was
something deficient or superfluous, in the Per-
sons he disliked, which was not compatible
with the Perfection of Beauty, which I imagine
might have been obtained by Means of Orna-
ment, by painting and concealing any Thing
that was deformed, and trimming and polishing
what was handsome; so that the unsigh y
Parts might have given less Offence, and the
more lovely more Delight. If this be grant-
ed we may define Ornament to be a Kind of
an auxiliary Brightness and Improvement to
Beauty. So that then Beauty is somewhat
lovely which is proper and innate, and diffused
over the whole Body, and Ornament some-
what added or fastened on, rather than proper
and innate. To return therefore where we
lest off. Whoever would build so as to have
their Building commended, which every rea-
sonable Man would desire, must build accord-
ing to a Justness of Proportion, and this Just-
ness of Proportion must be owing to Art. Who
therefore will affirm, that a handsome and just
Structure can be raised any otherwise than by
the Means of Art? and consequently this Part
of Building, which relates to Beauty and Orna-
ment, being the Chief of ah the Rest, must
without doubt be directed by some sure Rules
of Art and Proportion, which whoever ne-
glects will make himself ridiculous. But there
are some who will by no means allow of this,
and say that Men are guided by a Variety of
Opinions in their Judgment of Beauty and of
Buildings; and that the Forms of Structures
must vary according to every Man’ s particular

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1

Taste and Fancy, and not be tied down to any
Rules of Art. A common Thing with the
Ignorant, to despise what they do not under-
stand! It may not therefore be amiss to confute
this Error; not that I think it necessary to
enter into a long Discussion about the Origin
of Arts, from what Principles they were de-
duced, and by what Methods improved. I
shall only take Notice that all Arts were begot
by Chance and Observation, and nursed by
Use and Experience, and improved and per-
fected by Reason and Study. Thus we are
told that Physick was invented in a thousand
Years by a thousand thousand Men; and so too
the Art of Navigation; as, indeed, all other
Arts have grown up by Degrees from the small-
est Beginnings.

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1

CHAP. III.

That Architecture began in Asia, flourished in Greece, and was brought to
Perfection in Italy.

The Art of Building, as far as I can
gather from the Works of the Ancients,
spent the first Vigour of its Youth (if I may
be allowed that Expression) in Asia: It after-
wards flourished among the Greeks; and at
last came to its full Maturity in Italy. And
this Account seems very probable; for the
Kings of Asia abounding in Wealth and Lei-
sure, when they came to consider themselves,
their own Riches, and the Greatness and Ma-
jesty of their Empire, and found that they had
Occasion for larger and nobler Habitations,
they began to search out and collect every
Thing that might serve to this Purpose; and
in order to make their Buildings larger and
handsomer, began perhaps with building their
Roofs of larger Timbers, and their Walls of a
better Sort of Stone. This shewed noble and
great, and not unhandsome. Then finding
that such Works were admired for being very
large, and imagining that a King was obliged
to do something which private Men could not
effect, these great Monarchs began to be de-
lighted with huge Works, which they fell to
raising with a Kind of Emulation of one an-
other, till they came to erecting those wild im-
mense Moles, the Pyramids. Hereupon I ima-
gine that by frequent Building they began to
find out the Difference that there was between
a Structure built in one Manner, and one built
in another, and so getting some Notion of
Beauty and Proportion, began to neglect those
Things which wanted those Qualities. Greece
came next; which flourishing in excellent
Geniusses and Men of Learning, passionately

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1

desirous of adorning their Country, began to
erect Temples and other publick Structures.
They then thought fit to look abroad and take
a more careful View of the Works of the As—
syrians and Egyptians, till at last they came
to understand that in all Things of this Nature
the Skill of the Workman was more admired
than the Wealth of the Prince: For any one
that is rich may raise a great Pile of Building;
but to raise such a one as may be commended
by the Skilful, is the Part only of a superior
Genius. Flereupon Greece finding that in these
Works she could not equal those Nations in
Expence, resolved to try if she could not out-do
them in Ingenuity. She began therefore to
trace and deduce this Art of Building, as in-
deed she did all others, from the very Lap of
Nature itself, examining, weighing and con-
sidering it in all its Parts with the greatest Di-
ligence and Exactness: enquiring with the
greatest Strictness into the Difference between
those Buildings which were highly praised, and
those which were disliked, without neglecting
the least Particular’. She tried all Manner of
Experiments, still tracing and keeping close to
the Footsteps of Nature, mingling uneven
Numbers with even, strait Lines with Curves,
Light with Shade, hoping that as it happens
from the Conjunction of Male and Female, she
should by the Mixture of these Opposites hit
upon some third Thing that would answer her
Puipose: Nor even in the most minute Parti-
culars did she neglect to weigh and consider all
the Parts over and over again, how those on
the right Hand agreed with those on the left,
the Upright with the Platform, the nearer with
the more remote, adding, diminishing, propor-
tioning the great Parts to the Small, the Simi-
lar to the Dissimilar, the Last to the First, till
she had clearly demonstrated that different

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1

Rules were to be observed in those Edifices
which were intended for Duration, to stand as
it were Monuments to Eternity, and those
which were designed chiefly for Beauty. These
were the Methods pursued by the Greeks.

Italy, in her first Beginnings, having Regard
wholly to Parsimony, concluded that the Mem-
bers in Buildings ought to be contrived in the
same Manner as in Animals; as, for Instance,
in a Horse, whose Limbs are generally most
beautiful when they are most useful for Service:
from whence they inferred that Beauty was
never separate and distinct from Conveniency.
But afterwards when they had obtained the
Empire of the World, being then no less in-
flamed than the Greeks with the Desire of a-
dorning their City and themselves, in less than
thirty Years that which before was the finest
House in the whole City of Rome, could not

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1

then be reckoned so by a hundred; and they
abounded in such an incredible Number of in-
genious Men who exercise their Talent this
Way, that we are told there was at one Time
no less than seven hundred Architects at Rome ,
whose Works were so noble that the extraor-
dinary Praise which is bestowed upon them,
is hardly equal to their Merit. And as the
Wealth of the Empire was sufficient to bear the
Expence of the most stately Structures, so we
are told that a private Man, by Name Tatius,
at his own proper Charges built Baths for the
People of Ostia with an hundred Columns of
Numidian Marble. But still though the Con-
dition of their State was thus flourishing, they
thought it most laudable to join the Magnifi-
cence of the most profuse Monarchs, to the an-
cient Parsimony and frugal Contrivance of their
own Country: But still in such a Manner, that
their Frugality should not prejudice Conveni-
ency, nor Conveniency be too cautious and
fearful of Expence; but that both should be
embellished by every thing that was delicate or
beautiful. In a Word, being to the greatest
Degree careful and exact in all their Buildings,
they became at last so excellent in this Art,
that there was nothing in it so hiden or secret
but what they traced out, discovered and
brought to light, by the Favour of Heaven,
and the Art itself not frowning upon their En-
deavours: For the Art of Building having had
her ancient Seat in Italy, and especially among
the Hetrurians, who besides those miraculous
Structures which we read to have been erected
by their Kings, of Labyrinths and Sepulchres,
had among them some excellent ancient Writ-
ings, which taught the Manner of building
Temples, according to the Practice of the An-
cient Tuscans: I say, this Art having had her
ancient Seat in Italy, and knowing with how

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1

much Fervour she was courted there, she seems
to have resolved, that this Empire of the World,
which was already adorned with all other Vir-
tues, should be made still more admirable by
her Embellishments. For this Reason she gave
herself to them to be throughly known and un-
derstood; thinking it a Shame that the Head
of the Universe and the Glory of all Nations
should be equalled in Magnificence by those
whom she had excelled in all Virtues and Sci-
ences. Why should I insist here upon their
Porticoes, Temples, Gates, Theatres, Baths,
and other gigantick Structures; Works so a-
mazing, that though they were actually exe-
cuted, some very great foreign Architects
thought them impracticable. In short, I need
say no more than that they could not bear to
have even their common Drains void of Beau-
ty, and were so delighted with Magnificence
and Ornament, that they thought it no Profu-
sion to spend the Wealth of the State in Build-
ings that were hardly designed for any thing
else. By the Examples therefore of the Anci-
ents, and the Precepts of great Masters, and
constant Practice, a thorough Knowledge is to
be gained of the Method of raising such mag-
nificent Structures; from this Knowledge
sound Rules are to be drawn, which are by no
means to be neglected by those who have not
a Mind to make themselves ridiculous by build-
ing, as I suppose nobody has. These Rules it
is our Business here to collect and explain, ac-
cording to the best of our Capacity. Of these
some regard the universal Beauty and Orna-
ment of the whole Edifice; other the particu-
lar Parts and Members taken separately. The
former are taken immediately from Philosophy
and are intended to direct and regulate the
Operations of this Art; the others from Ex-
perience, as we have shewn above, only filed

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1

and perfected by the Principles of Philo-
sophy. I shall speak first of those wherein this
particular’ Art is most concerned; and as for
the others, which relate to the Universality,
they shall serve by Way of Epilogue.

CHAP. IV

That Beauty and Ornamen t in every Thing arise from Con trivance, or the
Hand of the Artificer, or from Nature; and that though the Region indeed
can hardly be improved by the Wit or Labour of Man, yet many other
Things may be done highly worthy of Admiration, and scarcely credible.

That which delights us in Things that
are either beautiful or finely adorned,
must proceed either from the Contrivance and
Invention of the Mind, or the Hand of the
Artificer, or from somewhat derived immedi-
ately from Nature herself. To the Mind be-

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1

long the lection, Distribution, Disposition,
and other Things of the like Nature which
give Dignity to the Work: To the Hand, the
amassing, adding, diminishing, chipping, po-
lishing, and the like, which make the Work
delicate: The Qualities derived from Nature
are Heaviness, Lightness, Thickness, Clearness,
Durability, c fee. which make the Work wond-
erful. These three Operations are to be adapt-
ed to the several Parts according to their various
Uses and Offices. There are several Ways of
dividing and considering the different Parts:

But at present we shall divide all Buildings
either according to the Parts in which they
generally agree, or to those in which they ge-
nerally differ. In the first Book we saw that
all Edifices must have Region, Situation, Corn-
partition, Walling, Covering, and Apertures;
in these Particulars therefore they agree. But
then in these others they differ, namely, that
some are Sacred, others Profane, some Pub-
lick, others Private, some designed for Neces-
sity, others for Pleasure, and so on. Let us be-
gin with those Particulars wherein they agree.
What the Hand or Wit of Man can add to
the Region, either of Beauty or Dignity, is
hardly discoverable; unless we would give in-
to those miraculous and superstitious Accounts
which we read of some Works. Nor are the
Undertakers of such Works blamed by pru-
dent Men, if their Designs answer any great
Conveniency; but if they take Pains to do
what there was no Necessity for, they are just-
ly denied the Praise they hunt after. For who
would be so daring as to undertake, like Stasi-
crates, (according to Plutarch ) or Dinocrates
(according to Vitruvius ) to make Mount Athos
into a Statue of Alexander, and in one of the
Hands to build a City big enough to contain
ten thousand Men? Indeed I should not dis-

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commend Queen Nitocris for having forced
the River Euphrates, by making vast Cuts, to
flow three Times round the City of the Assy-
rians, if she made the Region strong and secure
by those Trenches, and fruitful by the over-
flowing of the Water. But let us leave it to
mighty Kings to be delighted with such Un-
dertakings: Let them join Sea to Sea by cut-
ting the Land between them: Let them level
Hills: Let them make new Islands, or join old
ones to the Continent: Let them put it out
of the Power of any others to imitate them,
and so make their Names memorable to Poste-
rity: Still all their wast Works will be com-
mended not so much in Proportion to their
Greatness as their Use. The Ancients some-
times added Dignity not only to particular
Groves, but even to the whole Region, by
Means of Religion. We read that all Sicily
was consecrated to Ceres; but these are Things
not now to be insisted upon. It will be of great
and real Advantages, if the Region be possessed
of some rare Quality, no less useful than extra-
ordinary: As for Instance, if the Air be more
temperate than in any other Place, and always
equal and uniform, as we arc told it is at
Moroe, where Men live in a Manner as long as
they please; or if the Region produces some-
thing not to be found elsewhere and very de-
sirable and wholesome to Man, as that which
produces Amber, Cinnamon, and Balsam; or
if it has some divine Influence in it, as there is
in the Soil of the Island EubSa, where we are
told nothing noxious is produced. The Situ-
ation, being a certain determinate Paid of the
Region, is adorned by all the same Particulars
as beautify the Region itself. But Nature ge-
nerally offers more Conveniencies, and those
more ready at Hand, for adorning the Situati-
on than the Region; for we very frequently

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meet with Circumstances extreamly noble and
surprising, such as Promontories, Rocks, brok-
en Hills vastly high and sharp. Grottoes, Ca-
verns, Springs and the like; near which, if we
would have our Situation strike the Beholders
with Surprize, we may build to our Hearts
desire. Nor should their be wanting in the
Prospect Remains of Antiquity, on which we
cannot turn our Eyes without considering the
various Revolutions of Men and Things, and
being filled with Wonder and Admiration. I
need not mention the Place where Troy once
stood, or the Plains of Leuctra stained with
Blood, nor the Fields near Trasumenus, and a
thousand other Places memorable for some
great Event. How the Hand and Wit of Man
may add to the Beauty of the Situation, is not
so easily shewn. I pass over Things com-
monly done; such as Plane-trees brought by
Sea to the Island of Tremeti to adorn the Situ-
ation, or Columns, Obelisks and Trees left by
great Men in order to strike Posterity with Ve-
neration; as for Instance, the Olive-tree planted
by Neptune and Minerva, which flourished for
so many Ages in the Citadel of Athens: I like-
wife pass over ancient Traditions handed down
from Age to Age, as that of the Turpentine-
tree near Hebron, which was reported to have
stood from the Creation of the World to the
Days of Josephus the Historian. Nothing can

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give a greater Air of Dignity and Awsulness to
a Place than some artful Laws made by the
Ancients; such as these: That nothing Male
should presume to set Foot in the Temple of
the Bona Dea, nor in that of Diana in the Pa-
trician Portico; and at Tanagra, that no Wo-
man should enter the sacred Grove, nor the in-
ner Parts of the Temple of Jerusalem; and
that no Person whatsoever, besides the Priest,
and he only in order to purify himself for Sa-
crisice, should wash in the Fountain near Pan –
thos; and that nobody should presume to spit
in the Place called Doliola near the great Drain
at Rome, where the Bones of Numa Pompilius
were deposited; and upon some Chapels there
have been Inscriptions, strictly forbidding any
common Prostitute to enter; in the Temple of
Diana at Crete , none were admitted, except
they were bare-footed; it was unlawful to bring
a Bond-woman into the Temple of the God-
dess Matuta; and all common Cryers were ex-
cluded from the Temple of Orodio at Rhodes,
and all Fiddlers from that of Temnius at Te-
nedos. So again, it was unlawful to go out of
the Temple of Jupiter Alfistius without sacri-
ficing, and to carry any Ivy into the Temple
of Minerva at Athens, or into that of Venus at
Thebes. In the Temple of Fauna, it was not
lawful so much as to mention the Name of
Wine. In the same Manner it was decreed,
that the Gate Janualis at Rome should never
be shut, but in Time of War, nor the Temple
of Janus ever opened in Time of Peace; and
that the Temple of the Goddess Flora should
stand always open. If we were to imitate any
of these Customs, perhaps it might not be a-
rniss to make it criminal for Women to enter
the Temples of Martyrs; or Men, those dedi-
cated to Virgin Saints. Moreover there are some
Advantages very desirable, said to be procured

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by Art, which when we read of, we could
scarcely believe, unless we saw something like
it in some particular – Places even at this Day.

We are told that it was brought about by hu-
man Art, that in Constantinople Seipents will
never hurt any body, and that no Daws will fly
within the Walls; and that no Grasshoppers
are ever heard in Naples, nor any Owls in
Candy. In the Temple of Achilles, in the
Island of Boristhenes no Bird whatsoever will
enter, nor any Dog or Fly of any Sort in the
Temple of Hercules near the Forum Boarium
at Rome. But what shall we say of this sur-
prizing Particularity, that at Venice, even at
this Day, no Kind of Fly ever enters the pub-
lick Palace of the Censors? And even in the
Flesh-market at Toledo, there is never more than
one Fly seen throughout the Year, and that a
remarkable one for its Whiteness. These
strange Accounts which we find in Authors,
are too numerous to be all inserted here, and
whether they are owing to Nature or Art, I
shall not now pretend to decide. But then,
again, how can we, either by Nature or Art,
account for what they tell us of a Laurel-tree
growing in the Sepulchre of Bibrias King of
Pontus, from which if the least Twig is brok-
en, and put aboard a Ship, that Ship shall ne-
ver be free from Mutinies and Tumults till the
Twig is thrown out of it: Or for its never
raining upon the Altar in Venus’ s Temple at
Paphos: Or for this, that whatever Part of the
Sacrifice is left at Minerva ‘ s Shrine in Phrygia
minor, will never corrupt: Or this, if you
break off any Part of Anteus’ s Sepulchre, it
immediately begins to rain, and never leaves off
till it is made whole again? Some indeed af-
firm, that all these Things may be done by an
Art, now lost, by means of little constellated
Images, which Astronomers pretend are not

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unknown to them. I remember to have read
in the Author of the Life of Apollonius Tyaneus,
that in the chief Apartments of the Royal Palace
at Babylon , some Magicians fastened to the
Cieling four golden Birds, which they called
the Tongues of the Gods, and that these were
endued with the Virtue of conciliating the Af-
fection of the Multitude towards their King:

And Josephus, a very grave Author, says that
he himself saw a certain Man named Eleazer,
who in the Prefence of the Emperor Vespasian
and his Sons, immediately cured a Man that
was possessed, by fastening a Ring to his Nose;
and the same Author writes that Solomon com-
posed certain Verses, which would give Ease
in Distempers; and Eusebius Pamphilus says,
that the / Egyptian God Serapis, whom we call
Pluto, invented certain Charms which would
drive away evil Spirits, and taught the Methods
by which Dcemons assumed the Shapes of brute
Beasts to do mischief. Servius too says, that
there were Men who used to carry Charms
about them, by which they were secured a-
gainst all unhappy Turns of Fortune; and that
those Charms were so powerful, that the Per-
sons who wore them could never die till they
were taken from them. If these Things could
be true, I should easily believe what we read
in Plutarch, that among the Pelenei there was
an Image, which if it were brought out of the

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Temple by the Priest, filled every Creature
with Terror and Dread on whatever Side it was
turned; and that no Eye durst look towards
it, for Fear. These miraculous Accounts we
have inserted only by way of Amusement. As
to other Particulars which may help to make
the Situation beautiful, considered in a general
View, such as the Circumference, the Space
round about it, its Elevation, Levelling,

Strengthening, and the like, I have nothing
more to say here, but to refer you for Instruc-
tions to the first and third Books. The chief
Qualities requisite in a Situation or Platform
(as we have there observed) are to be perfectly
dry, even, and solid, as also convenient and
suitable to the Puipose of the Building; and
it will be a very great Help to it, to strengthen
it with a good Bottom made of baked Earth,
in the Manner which we shall teach when we
come to treat of the Wall. We must not here
omit an Observation made by Plato, that it
will be a great Addition to the Dignity of the
Place, if you give it some great Name; and
this we find the Emperor Adrian was very
fond of doing, when he gave the Names of
Lycus, Canopeis, Academia, Tempe and other
great Titles to the several Parts of his Villa at
Tivoli.

CHAP. V.

A short Recapitulation of the Compartition, and of the just Composition and
adorning the Wail and Covering.

Though we have already said almost
as much as was necessary of the Com-
partition in the first Book, yet we shall take a
brief Review of it again here. The chief and
first Ornament of any Thing is to be free from
all Improprieties. It will therefore be a just

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and proper Compartition, if it is neither con-
fused nor interrupted, neither too rambling nor
composed of unsuitable Parts, and if the Mem-
bers be neither too many nor too few, neither
too small nor too large, nor mis-matcht nor un-
sightly, nor as it were separate and divided
from the Rest of the Body: But every Thing
so disposed according to Nature and Conveni-
ence, and the Uses for which the Structure is
intended, with such Order, Number, Size, Si-
tuation and Form, that we may be satisfied
there is nothing throughout the whole Fabrick,
but what was contrived for some Use or Con-
venience, and with the handsomest Compact-
ness of all the Parts. If the Compartition
answers in all these Respects, the Beauty and
Richness of any Ornaments will sit well upon
it; if not, it is impossible it should have any
Air of Dignity at all. The whole Compositi-
on of the Members therefore should seem to be
made and directed entirely by Necessity and
Conveniency; so that you may not be so much
pleased that there are such or such Parts in
the Building, as that they are disposed and laid
out in such a Situation, Order and Connection.
In adorning the Wall and Covering, you will
have sufficient Room to display the finest Ma-
terials produced by Nature, and the most curi-
ous Contrivance and Skill of the Artificer. If
it were in your Power to imitate the ancient
Osiris, who, we are told, built two Temples of
Gold, one to the Heavenly, the other to the
Royal Jupiter; or if you could raise some vast
Stone, almost beyond humane Belief, like that
which Semiramis brought from the Mountains
of Arabia, which was twenty Cubits broad
every Way, and an hundred and fifty long;
or if you had such large Stone, that you could
make some Part of the Work all of one Piece,
like a Chapel in Latona’ s Temple in /Egypt,

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forty Cubits wide in Front, and hollowed in
one single Stone, and so also covered with an-
other: This no doubt would create a vast deal
of Admiration in the Beholders, and especially
if the Stone was a foreign one, and brought
through difficult Ways, like that which Hero-
dotus relates to have been brought from the City
of Elephantis, which was about twenty Cubits
broad, and fifteen high, and was carried as far
as Susa in twenty Days. It will also add great-
ly to the Ornament and Wonder of the Work,
if such an extraordinary Stone be set in a re-
markable and honourable Place. Thus the
little Temple at Chemmis, an Island in A Egypt ,
is not so surprizing upon Account of being co-
vered with one single Stone, as upon Account
of such a huge Stone’ s being raised to so great a
Height. The Rarity and Beauty of the Stone
itself will also add greatly to the Ornament; as
for Instance, if it is that sort of Marble, with

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which we are told Nero built a Temple to
Fortune in his golden Palace, which was so
white, so clear and transparent, that even when
all the Doors were shut the Light seemed to be
enclose within the Temple. All these Things
are very Noble in themselves; but they will
make no Figure if there is not Care and Art
used in their Composition or putting together:
For every Thing must be reduced to exact Mea-
sure, so that all the Parts may correspond with
one another, the Right with the Left, the
lower Parts with the Upper, with nothing in-
terfering that may blemish either the Order or
the Materials, but every Thing squared to ex-
act Angles and similar Lines. We may often
observe that base Materials managed with Art,
make a handsomer Shew than the Noblest
heaped together in Confusion. Who can ima-
gine that the Wall of Athens, which Thucydides
informs us was built so tumultuously that they
even threw into it some of the Statues of their
Sepulchres, could have any Beauty in it, or be
any ways adorned by being full of broken Sta-
tues? On the Contrary, we are very much
pleased with the Walls of some old Country-
Flouses, though they are built of any Stone
that the People could pick up; because they
are disposed in even Rows, with an alternate
Checquer of Black and White: so that con-
sidering the Meanness of the Structure, no-
thing can be desired handsomer. But perhaps
this Consideration belongs rather to that Paid
of the Wall which is called the outward Coat,
than to the Body of the Wall itself. To con-
clude, all your Materials should be so distribu-
ted that nothing should be begun, but accord-
ing to some judicious Plan; nothing carried on
but in pursuance of the same; and no Part of
it left imperfect, but finished and compleated
with the utmost Care and Diligence. But the

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principal Ornament both of the Wall and Co-
vering, and especially of all vaulted Roofs (al-
ways excepted Columns) is the outward Coat:

And this may be of several Sorts; either all
white, or adorned with Figures and Stu -work,
or with Painting, or Pictures set in Pannels, or
with Mosaie Work, or else a Mixture of all
these together.

CHAP. VI.

In what Manner great Weights and large Stones are moved from one Place to
another or raised to any great Height.

Of those Ornaments last mentioned we are
to treat; and to shew what they are and
how they are to be made; but having in the
last Chapter mentioned the moving of vast
Stones, it seems necessary here to give some
Account in what Manner such huge Bodies are
moved, and how they are raised to such high
and difficult Places. Plutarch relates that
Archimedes, the great Mathematician of Syra-
cuse, drew a Ship of Burthen with all its lad-
ing through the Middle of the Market Place,
with his Hand, as if he had been only leading
along a Horse by the Bridle: But we shall here
consider only those Things that are necessary
in Practice; and then take Notice of some
Points, by which Men of Learning and good
Apprehensions may fully and clearly under-
stand the whole Business of themselves. Pliny
says, that the Obelisk brought from PhSnicia
to Thebes, was brought down a Canal cut from
the Nile, in Ships full of Bricks, so that by ta-
king out some of the Bricks they could at any
Time lighten the Vessel of its Lading. We
find in Ammianus Marcellinus the Historian,
that an Obelisk was brought from the Nile, in
a Vessel of three hundred Oars, and laid upon

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Rollers at three Miles distance from Rome , and
so drawn into the great Circus through the
Gate that leads to Ostia: And that several
thousand Men laboured hard at the erecting it,
though the whole Circus was full of nothing
but vast Engines and Ropes of a prodigious
Thickness. We read in Vitruvius that Ctesiphon
and his Son Metagenes brought his Columns
and Architraves to Ephesus by a Method which
they borrowed from those Cylinders with
which the Ancients used to level the Ground:
For in each End of the Stone they fixed a Pin
of Iron which they fastened in with Lead,
which Pin stood out and served as an Axis,
and at each End was let into a Wheel so large
as for the Stone to hang upon its Pins above
the Ground; and so by the Motion of the
Wheels the Stones were earned along with a
great deal of Ease. We are told that Chem-
minus the Egyptian, when he built that vast

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Pyramid of above six Furlongs high, raised a
Mound of Earth all the Way up along with
the Building, by which he carried up those
huge Stones into their Places. Herodotus writes
that Cheops, the Son of Rhampsinites, in the
building of that Pyramid which employed an
hundred thousand Men for many Years, left
Steps on the Outside of it, by means of which
the largest Stones might by proper Engines, be
raised up into their Places without having Oc-
casion for very long Timbers. We read too
of Architraves of vast Stones being laid upon
huge Columns in the following Manner: Un-
der the Middle of the Architrave they set two
Bearers across, pretty near each other. Then
they loaded one End of the Architraves with a
great Number of Baskets full of Sand, the
Weight of which raised up the other End, on
which there were no Baskets, and one of the
Bearers was left without any Weight upon it:
Then removing the Baskets to the other End
so raised up, and putting under some higher
Bearers in the Room of that which was left
without Weight, the Stone by little and little
rose up as it were of its own accord. These
Things which we have here briefly collect-
ed together, we leave to be more clearly
learnt from the Authors themselves. But
the Method of this Treatise requires, that we
should speak succinctly of some few Things
that make to our Puipose. I shall not waste
Time in explaining any such curious Principles,
as that it is the Nature of all heavy Bodies to
press continually downwards, and obstinately
to seek the lowest Place; that they make the
greatest Resistance they are able against being
raised aloft, and never change their Place, but
after the stoutest Conflict, being either over-
come by some greater Weight or some more
powerful contrary Force. Nor shall I stand to

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observe that Motions are various, from high to
low or from low to high, directly, or about a
Curve; and that some Things are carried, some
drawn, some pushed on, and the like; of
which Enquiries we shall treat more copiously
in another Place. This we may lay down for
certain, that a Weight is never moved with so
much Ease as it is downwards; because it then
moves itself, nor ever with more Difficulty,
than upwards; because it naturally resists that
Direction; and that there is a Kind of middle
Motion between these two, which perhaps par-
takes somewhat of the Nature of both the
others, inasmuch as it neither moves of itself,
nor of itself resists, as when a Weight is drawn
upon an even Plain, free from all Rubs. All
other Motions are easy or difficult in Proporti-
on as they approach to either of the preceding.
And indeed Nature herself seems in a good
Measure to have shewn us in what Manner
great Weights are to be moved: for we may
observe, that if any considerable Weight is laid
upon a Column standing upright, the least
Shove will push it off, and when once it be-
gins to fall, hardly any Force is sufficient to
stop it. We may also observe, that any round
Column, or Wheel, or any other Body that
turns about, is very easily moved, and very
hard to stop when once it is set on going; and
if it is draged along without rowling, it does
not move with half the Ease. We further see,
that the vast Weight of a Ship may be moved
upon a standing Water with a very small Force,
if you keep pulling continually; but if you
strike it with ever so great a Blow suddenly, it
will not stir an Inch: On the Contrary, some
Things will move with a sudden Blow or a fu-
rious Push, which could not otherwise be stirred
without a mighty Force or huge Engines.

Upon Ice too the greatest Weights make but a

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small Resistance, against one that tries to draw
them. We likewise see that any Weight which
hangs upon a long Rope, is very easily moved
as far as a certain Point; but not so easily, fur-
ther. The Consideration of the Reasons of
these Things, and the Imitation of them, may
be very useful to our Puipose; and therefore
we shall briefly treat of them here. The Keel
or Bottom of any Weight, that is to be drawn
along, should be even and solid; and the
Broader it is, the less it will plough up the
Ground all the Way under it, but then the
Thinner it is, it will slip along the Quicker,
only it will make the deeper Furrows, and be
apter to stick: If there are any Angles or Ine-
qualities in the Bottom of the Weight, it will
use them as Claws to fasten itself in the Plain,
and to resist its own Motion. If the Plain be
smooth, sound, even, hard, not rising or sink-
ing on any Side, the Weight will have nothing
to hinder its Motion, or to make it resuse to
obey, but its own natural Love of Rest, which
makes it lazy and unwilling to be moved.
Perhaps it was from a Consideration of these
Things, and from a deeper Examination of the
Particulars we have here mentioned, and Ar-
chimedes was induced to say, that if he had on-
ly a Basis for so immense a Weight, he would
not doubt to turn the World itself about. The
Preparation of the Bottom of the Weight and

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the Plain upon which it is to be drawn, which
is what we are here to consider, may be effect-
ed in the following Manner. Let such a Num-
ber of Poles be laid along, and of such a
Strength and Thickness as may be sufficient
for the Weight; let them be sound, even,
smooth, and close joined to one another: Be-
tween the Bottom of the Weight and this Plain
which it is to slide upon, there should be some-
thing to make the Way more slippery; and
this may be either Soap, or Tallow, or Lees of
Oil, or perhaps Slime. There is another Way
of making the Weight slip along, which is by
underlaying it cross-ways with Rollers: But
these, though you have a sufficient Number of
them, are very hard to be kept even to their
proper Lines and exact Direction; which it is
absolutely necessary they should be, and that
they should all do Duty equally and at once,
or else they will run together in Confusion,
and carry the Weight to one Side And if you
have but few of them, being continually load-
ed, they will either be split or flatted, and so
be rendered useless; or else that single Line
with which they touch the Plain underneath,
or that other with which they touch the
Weight that is laid upon them, will stick fast
with their sharp Points and be immoveable
A Cylinder or Roller is a Body consisting of a
Number of Circles joined together; and the
Mathematicians say that a Circle can never
touch a right Line in more than one Point;
for which Reason I call the single Line which
is pressed by the Weight, the Point of the Rol-
ler. The only Way to provide against this In-
convenience, is to have the Roller made of the
strongest and soundest Stuff, and exactly ac-
cording to Rule and Proportion.

CHAP. VII.

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1

Of Wheels, Pins, Leavers, Putties, their Parts, Sizes and Figures.

But as there are several other Things, be-
sides those already mentioned, which are
necessary for our Puipose, such as Wheels, Pul-
lies, Skrews and Leavers, we shall here treat of
them more distinctly. Wheels in a great Mea-
sure are the same as Rollers, as they always
press down perpendicularly upon one Point:

But there is this Difference between them,
namely, that Rollers are more expeditious.

Wheels being hindered by the Friction of their
Pins or Axis. The Parts of a Wheel are three:

The large outer Circle, the Pin or Axis in the
Middle, and the Hole or Circle into which the
Pin is let. This Circle some perhaps would
rather call the Pole; but because in some Ma-
chines it stands still, and in others moves about,
we rather desire Leave to call it the Axicle.

If the Wheel turns upon a very thick Axis, it
will go very hard; if upon too thin a one, it
will not support its Load; if the outer Circle
of the Wheel be too small, the same Inconve-
nience will happen that we observed of the
Roller, that is, it will stick in the Plain; if it
be too large, it will go along tottering from
Side to Side, and it will never be ready or
handy at turning one way or the other. If the
Axicle or Circle in which the Axis turns, be
too large, it will grind its Way out; if it be
too narrow, it will hardly be able to turn. Be-
tween the Axis and the Circle in which it turns,
there should be somewhat to lubricate: Be-
cause one of these is to be considered as the
Plain, and the other as the Bottom or Keel of
the Weights. Rollers and Wheels should be
made of Elm or Holm-Oak: The Axis of
Holly or the Cornel-tree, or indeed rather of
Iron: The Circle for the Wheel to turn in, is
made best of Brass with one third of Tin. Pul-

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lies are little Wheels. Leavers are of the Na-
ture of the Radii or Spokes of a Wheel. But
every Thing of this Sort, whether large Wheels
which Men turn about by walking within
them, or Cranes or Skrews, or any other En-
gine, working either by Leavers or Pullies; the
Principles, I say, of all these are deduced from
the Balance. They tell us, that Mercury was
believed to be a God chiefly upon this Ac-
count, that without the least Gesture with his
Hand, he could make his Meaning perfectly
clear and plain by his Words. This, though
I am a little fearful of succeeding in it, I shall
here endeavour to do to the utmost of my
Power: For my Design is to speak of these
Things not like a Mathematician, but like a
Workman; and to say no more than is abso-
lutely necessary. For the clearer understand-
ing therefore of this Matter, I will suppose that
you have in your Hand, a Dart. In this Dart I

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would have you consider three Places, which
I call Points; the two Ends, that is the Steel
and the Peathers, and the third is the Loop in
the Middle for throwing the Dart by; and the
two Spaces between the two Ends and the
Loop, I shall call the Radii. I shall not dis-
pute about the Reasons of these Names, which
will appear – better from the Consideration of
the Thing itself. If the Loop be placed ex-
actly in the Middle of the Dart, and the Lea-
ther End be just equal in Weight to the Steel,
both Ends of the Dart will certainly hang even
and be equally poised; if the steel End be the
Heaviest, the Feather will be thrown up, but
yet there will be a certain Point in the Dart
further towards the heavy End, to which if
you slip the Loop, the Weight will be imme-
diately brought to an equal Poise again; and
this will be the Point by which the larger Ra-
dius exceeds the smaller just as much as the
smaller Weight is exceeded by the larger. For
those who apply themselves to the Study of
these Matters, tell us, that unequal Radii may
be made equal to unequal Weights, provided
the Number of the Parts of the Radius and
Weight of the right Side, multiplied together,
be equal to the Number of those Parts on the
opposite left Side: Thus if the Steel be three
Parts, and the Feather two, the Radius be-
tween the Loop and the Steel must be two, and
the other Radius between the Loop and the
Feather must be three. By which Means, as
this Number five will answer to the five on the
opposite Side, the Radii and the Weights an-
swering equally to one another, they will hang
even and be equally poised. If the Number
on each Side do not answer to one another,
that Side will overcome on which that Inequa-
lity of Numbers lies. I will not omit one Ob-
servation, namely, that if equal Radii run out

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from both Sides of the Loop, and you give the
Ends a twirl round in the Air they will de-
scribe equal Circles; but if the Radii be un-
equal, the Circles which they describe, will be
unequal also. We have already said that a
Wheel is made up of a Number of Circles:
Whence it is evident, that if two Wheels let
into the same Axis be turned by one and the
same Motion, so as when one moves the
other cannot stand still, or when one stands
still the other cannot move; from the Length
of the Radii or Spokes in each Wheel we may
come at the Knowledge of the Force which is
in that Wheel, remembring always to take the
Length of the Radius srom the very Center of
the Axis. If these Principles are sufficiently
understood, the whole Secret of all these En-
gines of which we are here treating, will be
manisest; especially with Relation to Wheels
and Leavers. In Pullies indeed we may con-
sider some surther Particulars: For both the
Rope which runs in the Pully and the little
Wheel in the Pully are as the Plain, whereon
the Weight is to be carried with the middle
Motion, which we observed in the last Chapter
was between the most Easy and the most Dif-
ficult, inasmuch as it is neither to be raised up
nor let down, but to be drawn along upon the
Plain keeping always to one Center. But that
you may understand the Reason of the Thing
more clearly, take a Statue of a thousand
Weight; if you hang this to the Trunk of a
Tree by one single Rope, it is evident this Rope
must bear the whole thousand Weight. Fasten
a Pully to the Statue, and into this Pully let
the Rope by which the Statute hangs, and bring
this Rope up again to the Trunk of the Tree,
so as the Statue may hang upon the double
Rope, it is plain the Weight of the Statue is
then divided between two Ropes, and that the

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Pully in the Middle divides the Weight equal-
ly between them. Let us go on yet further,
and to the Trunk of the Tree fasten another
Pully and bring the Rope up through this
likewise. I ask you what Weight this Paid of
the Rope thus brought up and put through
the Pully will take upon itself: You will say
five hundred; do you not perceive from hence
that no greater Weight can be thrown upon
this second Pully by the Rope, than what the
Rope has itself; and that is five hundred. I
shall therefore go no farther, having, I think,
demonstrated that a Weight is divided by Pul-
lies, by which means a greater Weight may be
moved by a smaller; and the more Pullies
there are, the more still the Weight is divided;
from whence it follows that the more Wheels
there are in them, so many more Parts the
Weight is split into and may so much the more
easily be managed.

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  • PLATE 10. (Pages 121-22)

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PLATE 11. ( Page 122)

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PLATE 12. ( Page 122)

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PLATE 13. ( Page 122 )

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CHAP. VIII.

Of the Skrew and its Circles or Worm , and in what Manner great Weights
are either drawn, carried or pushed along.

We have already treated of Wheels, Pul-
lies and Leavers; we are now to pro-
ceed to the Skrew. A Skrew consists of a
Number of Circles like Rings, which take up-
on themselves the Burthen of the Weight. If
these Rings were entire, and not broken in
such a Manner, that the End of one of them is
the Beginning of the other; it is certain the
Weight which they support, though it might
be moved about, would neither go upwards nor
downwards, but evenly round upon an equal
Plain according to the Direction of the Rings:

The Weight therefore is forced to slide either
upwards or downwards along the Slope of the
Rings, which act herein after the Manner of
the Leaver. Again, if these Rings or this Worm
be of a small Circumference, or be cut in too
near to the Center of the Skrew, the Weight
will then be moved by shorter Leavers and
with a smaller Lorce. I will not here omit one
Thing which I did not think to have menti-
oned in this Place: Namely, that if you could
so order it that the Bottom or Keel of any
Weight which you would move might (as far
as could be done by the Art and Skill of the
Workman) be made no broader than a Point,
and be moved in such a Manner upon a firm
and solid Plain as not in the least to cut into
it, I would engage you should move Archi-
medes’ s Ship, or effect any thing else of this
Nature whatsoever. But of these Matters we
shall heat in another Place. Each of these
Lorces in particular, of which we have already
spoken, are of great Power for the moving of
any Weight; but when they are all joined to-

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gether, they are vastly stronger. In Germany
you every where see the Youth sporting upon
the Ice with a sort of wooden Pattens with a
very fine thin Bottom of Steel, in which with
a very small Strain they slip over the Ice with
so much Swiftness, that the quickest flying
Bird can hardly out-go them. But as all Weights
are either drawn, or pushed along, or canned,
we may distinguish them thus: That they are
drawn by Ropes; pushed along by Leavers;
and canied by Wheels, Rollers and the like:

And how all these Powers may be made use of

at the same Time, is manifest. But in all these
Methods, there must of Necessity be some one
Thing, which standing firm and immoveable
itself, may serve to move the Weight in Ques-
tion. If this Weight is to be drawn, there must
be some greater Weight, to which you may
fasten the Instruments you are to employ; and
if no such Weight can be had, fix a strong iron
Stake of the Length of three Cubits, deep in-
to the Ground which must be rammed down
tight all about it, or well strengthened with
Piles laid cross-ways: And then fasten the
Ropes of your Pullies or Cranes to the Head
of the Stake which stands up out of the Ground.
If the Ground be sandy, lay long Poles all the
Way for the Weight to slide upon, and at the
Head of these Poles fasten your Instruments to
a good strong Stake. I will take Notice of
one Thing which the Unexperienced will never
allow, till they understand the Matter thorough-
ly; which is, that along a Plain it is more con-
venient to draw two Weights than one; and
this is done in the following Manner: Having
moved the first Weight to the End of the
Timbers laid for it to slide upon, fix it there
with Wedges in such a Manner that nothing
can stir it, and then fasten or tie to it the En-

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gines, or Instruments with which you are to
draw your other Weight; and thus the move-
able Weight will be overcome and drawn along
the same Plain by the other Weight, which is
no more than equal to it, but only that it is
fixed. If the Weight is to be drawn up on high,
we may very conveniently make use of one
single Pole, or rather of the Mast of a Ship;
but it must be very stout and strong. This
Mast we must set upright, fastening the Foot
of it to a Stake, or fixing it strong in any other
Manner that you please. To the upper End of
it we must fasten no less than three Ropes, one
on the right Side, another on the lest, and the
other running down directly even with the
Mast. Then at some Distance from the Foot
of the Mast fix your Capstern and Pullies in
the Ground, and putting this last Rope through
the Pullies, let it run through them so as to
draw the Head of the Mast a little downwards,

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and we may guide it which way we think
proper by means of the two side Ropes, as with
two Reins, making it either stand upright
whenever we find it necessary, or stoop which-
soever way we Please to set down the Weight
in the proper place. As to these two side
Ropes, if you have no greater Weight to fasten
them to, you may fix them in the following
Manner: Dig a square Pit in the Ground, and
in it lay the Trunk of a Tree, to which fasten
one or more Loops that may stand up out of
the Ground; then lay some cross Timbers over
the Trunk, and fill up the Pit with Earth, ram-
ming it down very close, and if you wet it, it
will be the heavier. In all the other Particu-
lars, you may observe the Rules we have laid
down as to the Plain on which the Weight is
to slide: For you must fasten Pullies both to
the Head of the Mast and to the Weight which
is to be raised, and near the Foot of the Mast
you must fix your Capstern, or whatever other
Instrument you use that acts with the Power of
the Leaver. In all Engines of this Nature de-
signed for the moving of great Weights, we
should take Care that none of the Parts of the
Machine which are to have any Stress upon
them, be too small, and that none of our
Ropes, Spokes, or any other Medium which
we use in the Movement be weak by means of
their Length; for indeed long and thin are in
a Manner synonimous Terms, and so, on the
Contrary, are short and thick. If the Ropes
are small let them run double in the Pullies;
if they are very thick, you must get larger
Pullies, that the Rope may not be cut by the
Edges of the Pully-wheel. The Axis of the
Pully should be Iron, and not less in Thickness
than the sixth Part of the Semidiameter of the
Pully itself, nor more than the eighth Part of
the whole Diameter. If the Rope be wetted,

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it will be the more secure from taking Fire,
which sometimes happens by means of its Mo-
tion and Friction in the Pully; it will also turn
the Pully round the better, and keep better
within the Wheel. It is better to wet the
Rope with Vinegar than with Water; but if
you do it with Water, Sea-water is best. If
you wet with fresh Water, and it is exposed to
the Fleat of the Sun, it will rot presently.
Twisting the Ropes together is much safer than
tying them; and especially you must take Care
that one Rope does not cut the other. The
Ancients used a Bar or Rule of Iron, to which
they fastened the first Knots of their Ropes,
and their Pullies, and for taking up any Weight,
and especially of Stone, they had a Kind of
Pincers or Forceps of Iron. The Shape of
these Pincers or Forceps was taken from the
Letter X, the lower Limbs of it being turned
inwards like a Crab’ s Claw, by which means it
fastened itself to the Weight. The two upper
Limbs had Floles at the Top, through which
they put a Rope, which being tied, and strain-
ed tight by the moving Force, made the Teeth

of the Pincers keep closer to the Weight -A-.
In very large Stones, and especially in the
Middle of Columns, though perfectly smooth
in all other Parts, I have seen little Knobs left
jutting out, like Flandles, against which the
Ropes were hitched, to prevent their slipping.

It is also common, especially in Cornices, to
make a Flole in the Stone like a Mortise, after
this Manner; you make a Flole in the Stone
like an empty Purse, of a Bigness answerable
to the Size of the Stone, narrower at the Mouth
than at the Bottom. I have seen some of these
Floles a Foot deep. You then fill it with iron

Wedges, -B-the two side Wedges being shap-

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1

ed like the letter D, which are put in first to
fill up the Sides of the Hole, and the middle
Wedge is put in last between these two. All
these three Wedges have their Ears which pro-
ject out beyond the Mortise, and these Ears
have a Hole drilled in them, through which
you put an iron Pin, which fastens on a strong
Handle or Ring; and to this Ring you fasten
the Rope which runs through the Pully that
is to draw up the Weight. My way of fasten-
ing my Ropes about Columns, Jambs of Doors,
and other such Stones which are to be set up-
right, is as follows. I make a Cincture or
Hoop of Wood or Iron of a due Strength for
bearing the Weight which I am to move, and
with this Hoop I surround the Column or
other Stone in some convenient Part, making
it tight to the Stone with long thin Wedges
drove in gently with a Hammer, then I fasten
my Ligatures to this Hoop, and by this Means
I neither spoil the Beauty of the Stone by ma-
king Mortises in it, nor break the Edges of the
Jambs by the Rubbing of the Ropes against
them: Besides that it is the most expeditious,
convenient and safest Way of fastening the
Ropes that has been thought of. In another
Place I shall enlarge more particularly upon
many Things relating to this Subject. All I
shall observe further here is, that all Engines
may be looked upon to be a Sort of Animals,
with prodigious strong Hands; and that they
move Weights just in the same Manner as we

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PLATE 14. (Page 123)

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PLATE 15. ( Page 124)

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Men do with our Arms. For this Reason, the
same Distention and Contraction of the Mem-
bers and Nerves which we use in pulling,
thrusting or lifting, we are to imitate in our
Engines. I shall only add one Piece of Ad-
vice more, which is, that whenever you are to
move any great Weight, in any Manner what-
soever, you would go about it carefully, cauti-
ously and deliberately, remembering the many
uncertain and irrecoverable Accidents and
Dangers which sometimes happen in Attempts
of this Nature, even to the most experienced:

For you will never get so much Flonour and
Reputation if what you undertake, succeeds, as
you will incur Blame and the Imputation of
Rashness, if it fails. We shall now leave this
Subject, to proceed to the outward Coat of
the Wall.

CHAP. IX.

That the Incrustations which are made upon the Wall with Mortar, must be
three in Number: How they are to be made, and to what Purposes they are
to serve. Of the several Sorts of Mortar, and in what Manner the
Lime is to be prepared for making them: Of Bass-relieves in Stuc-work
and Paintings, with which the Wall may be adorned.

In all Incrustations there must be at least
three Coats of Mortar; the first is called
Rough-casting, and its Office is to stick as close
as possible to the Wall and to bind on the two
outer Coats; the Office of the outer Coat, is
to make the Work shew neat, smooth, and po-
lished; that of the middle Coat, which we call
Plaistering, is to prevent any Faults or Defects
in either of the other two. The Defects are
these: If the two last, that is to say, the Plaist-
ering and the outer Coat are sharp, and to use
such an Expression, tenacious of the Wall, as
the Rough-cast ought to be, their Acrimony

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will occasion an infinite Number of Cracks in
them in drying. And if the Rough-cast be
soft, as the outer Coat should be, it will not
take hold of the Wall as it ought, but will fall
off in Pieces. The oftener we plaister the Wall
over, the better we may polish it, and the
longer it will endure the Injuries of Time.
Among the ancient Buildings I have seen some
which have been done over no less than nine
Times. The first of these should be very shaip,
and made of Pit-Sand and Brick beaten not
too fine, but about the Size of small Gravel,
and laid on about the Thickness of three
Inches. For the Plaistering, or middle Coat,
River-Sand is better, and is less apt to crack.
This Coat too should be somewhat rough, be-
cause to a smooth Surface nothing will stick
that you lay on. The last of all should be as
white as Marble; for which Reason, instead of
Sand you should use the whitest Stone that can
be got pounded small; and it will be sufficient
if this Coat be laid on about half an Inch thick,
sor when it is much more, it will not easily
dry. I know some that, out of good Hus-
bandry, make it no thicker than a Piece of
Shoe-leather. The second Coat, or Plaister-
ing, ought to be ordered according to its Proxi-
mity to either of the other two. In Moun-
tains where there are Stone-pits, you meet
with certain Veins extremely like a transparent
Alabaster, which are neither Marble nor Tarres,
but of a Kind of middle Nature between both,
and very friable. If this be beat small and
mixed up instead of Sand, it will shew full of
little Sparks that will shine like a fine Sort of
Marble. In many Places we see Nails stuck
into the Wall to keep on the Plaistering, and
Time has proved to us that it is better to have
them of Brass than of Iron. I am very much
pleased with those who, instead of Nails, stick

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little Pieces of Flint in between the Joints of
the Stone; which they drive in gently with a
wooden Fiammer. The fresher and rougher
the Wall itself is, the faster all your plaistering
Work will cleave to it: For which Reason, if,
as you build the Wall, and while the Work is
Green, you rough-cast it, though but slightly,
the Plaistering and outer Coat will stick to it
so fast, as hardly ever to peel off. After souther-
ly Winds, it is very proper to do any of this
Sort of Work; but if when a north Wind
blows, or in any great Cold or Fieat, you offer
at any Sort of Plaistering, especially at laying
on the outer Coat, it will scale off presently.
Lastly, all Incrustations are of two Sorts; either

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spread on, or fastened to the Work. Stuc and
Plaister are spread on; but Stuc is never good
but in very dry Places. The Moisture trick-
ling down from old Walls is extremely preju-
dicial to all Sorts of Incrustations. These In-
crustations which are fastened to the Work are
Stone, Glass and the like. The different Sorts
of Incrustations which are spread on are either
flat White, Bass-relieve, or painted in Fresco.
Those which are fastened on, are either plain,
pannelled or tesselated. We shall speak first of
those which are spread on, for which the Lime
must be prepared in the following Manner:
Quench it in a covered Pit with clear Water,
and let there be much more Water than Lime;
then with an Axe chop and cut it as if you
were chopping of Wood, and you will know
when it is sufficiently soaked and dissolved by
the Axes not being offended by the least Stone
or Grit. It is thought not to be sufficiently
soaked under three Months. It is never good
unless it be very glutinous and clammy; for if
the Axe comes out of it dry, it is a Sign it has
not had a sufficient Quantity of Water to quench
its Thirst. When you mix it up with the Sand,
or any other pounded Materials, beat it over
and over again very heartily, till it perfectly
foams again. That which was designed for
the outer Coat the Ancients used to pound in
a Mortar, and they tempered their Mixture so
well, that it never stuck to the Trowel when
they came to lay it on. Upon this first Coat,
while it is still wet and fresh, lay on the second,
and be sure to let all the three be laid on so
fast as to dry together, beating them even and
smooth while they are wet. The outer Coat
of flat White, if you rub and smooth it well,
will shine like a Looking-glass; and if when
it is almost dry, you anoint it with Wax and
Gum Mastix dissolved in a little Oil, and heat

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the Wall thus anointed with a Pan of Charcoal,
so that it may imbibe that Ointment, it will
out-do any Marble in Whiteness. I have found
by Experience that this Coat will never scale
off, if while you are working it, upon the first
Appearance of any Crack, you make it good
with a few Twigs of white Mallows or wild
Spart. But if you are obliged to plaister in
the Dog-days, or in any very hot Place, cut
and beat some old Ropes very small, and mix
them with the Plaister. You may also give it
a very fine Polish, by throwing in a little
white Soap dissolved in warm Water; but if
you use too much of this, it will make your
Work look pale. Figures in Stuc-work are
easily made from a Mold; and the Mold itself
is taken off from any Relieve, by pouring some
liquid Plaister over it; and as it is drying, if it
is anointed with the Composition above men-
tioned, it will get a Surface like Marble. These
Figures are of two Sorts, one alto Relieve and
the other basso Relieve. In an upright Wall,
the alto Relieve do extremely well: But on an
arched Cieling the basso Relieve are better;
because those of the high Relieve being to hang
down from the Cieling, are very apt to break
off by their own Weight, which may endanger
the Persons in the Room. It is a very good
Admonition, that where there is likely to be
much Dust, we should never make Ornaments
of high Relieve; but flat and low, that they
may be easily cleaned. Of painted Surfaces
some are done while the Work is fresh, and
others when it is dry. All natural Colours
which proceed from the Fai th, from Mines or
the like, are proper for Paintings in Fresco:

But all artificial Colours, and especially those
which are altered by Means of Fire, require a
very dry Surface, and abhor Fime, the Rays of
the Moon, and southern Winds. It has been

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newly found out that Colours mixed up with
Linseed Oil, will stand a vast While against all
the Injuries of the Air and Seasons, provided
the Wall on which they are laid be perfectly
dry, and quite clear of all Moisture; though I
have observed that the antient Painters, in
painting the Poops of their Ships, make use of
liquid Wax, instead of Size. I have also seen
in the Works of the Ancients, some Colours of
Gems laid on the Wall, if I judge rightly, with
Wax, or perhaps with a white Sort of Terrass,
which was so hardened by Time, that it could
not be got off either by Fire or Water, and you
would have taken it for a hard Sort of Glass.

I have known some too, that with the white
milky Flower of Lime, have laid Colours up-
on the Wall, while it was still fresh, that have
looked as much like Glass as possible. But of
this Subject, we need say no more.

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CHAP. X.

Of the Method of cutting Marble into thin Scantlings, and what Sand is best
for that Purpose; as also of the Difference and Agreement between Mosaic
Work in Relieve, and Flat, and of the Cement to be used in that Sort of Work.

As to those Incrustations which are fasten-
ed on to the Work, whether flat Facings,
or pannelled Work, the same Method is to be
used in both. It is very surprizing to consider
the Diligence which the Antients used in saw-
ing and polishing their Scantlings of Marble.

I myself have seen some Pieces of Marble above
six Foot long and three broad, and yet scarce
half an Inch thick, and these have been joined
together with a curve Line, that the Spectators
might not easily find out where the Junctures
were. Pliny tells us, that the Ancients com-
mended the Sand of A Ethiopia as the Best for
sawing of Marble, and that the Indian came up
the nearest to it: But that the a E gyptian was
rather too soft, though even that was better than
ours. They tell us that there is a Sort found
in a certain Flat in the Adriatic Sea, which
was much used by the Ancients. We dig a
Sand about the Shore of Pozzuolo, which is not
improper for this Purpose. The sharp Sand
found in any Sort of Torrent is good, but the
larger it is, the wider it cuts and the more it
eats into the Stone; whereas the softer it goes
through, the Smoother it leaves the Surface,
and the more easily to be polished. The Po-
lishing must be begun with chizzelling, but
ended with the softest and smoothest rubbing.

The Theban Sand is much commended for rub-
bing and polishing of Marble; so is the Whet-
stone, and the Emeril, whose Dust nothing can
exceed for this Purpose. The Pumice-stone
too, for giving the last Polish, is very useful.

The Scum of calcined Tin, which we call Put-

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ty, white Lead burnt, the Tripoli Chalk in
particular, and the like, if they are beat in-
to the finest Dust that possibly can be, still re-
taining their Sharpness, are very good for this
Work. For fastening on the Scantlings, if
they are thick, fix into the Wall either Pins of
Iron, or little Spars of Marble sticking out from
the Wall, to which you may fasten your Scant-
ling without any Thing of Cement. But if the
Scantlings are thin, after the second Plaister-
ing, instead of Mortal’, take Wax, Pitch, Ro-
sin, Gum Mastic, and a good Quantity of any
other Sort of Gum whatsoever, all melted and
mixed together, and warm your Piece of Mar-
ble by degrees, lest if you put it to the Fire at
once of a Sudden, the Fleat should make it
crack. In fixing up your Scantlings, it will be
very laudable if the Juncture and Order in
which you place them, produce a beautiful Ef-
fect, by means of the Veins and Colours an-
swering and setting off one another. I am
mightily pleased with the Policy of the Anci-
ents, who used to make those Parts which lay
nearest to the Eye as neat and as exactly polished
as was possible, but did not take so much Pains
about those which stood at any Distance, or
Fleigth, and in some Places put them up with-
out any polishing at all, where they knew the
Eye of the most curious Examiner could not
reach them. Mosaic Work in Relieve, and
that which is flat, agree in this Particular,
that both are designed to imitate Painting, by
means of an artful Composition of various Co-
lours of Stones, Glass, and Shells. Nero is said
to have been the First that had Mother of
Pearl cut and mixed in Mosaic Work. But
herein they differ, that in Mosaic Work in Re-
lieve we use the largest Pieces of Marble, &c.
that we can get; whereas in the flat Mosaic,
we put none but little square Pieces, no big-

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ger than a Bean; and the smaller these Pieces
are, the more Bright and Sparkling they make
the Work, the Light by so many different Faces
being broke into the more various Parts. They
differ too in this, that in fastening on the for-
mer, Cement made of Gums is the Best; but
in the flat Work, we should use Mortal – made
of Lime, with a Mixture of Tyburtine Stone,
beat as small as Dust. There are some that, in
flat Work Mosaic Work, are for steeping the
Lime often in hot Water, in order to get out
its Saltness and make it softer and more gluey.

I have known some of the hardest Stone polish-
ed upon a Grind-stone, in order to be used in
the Mosaic in Relieve. In the flat Mosaic Work
you may fasten Gold to Glass with a Cement
of Lead or Litharge, which may be made more
liquid than any Sort of Glass whatsoever. All

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that we have here said of the outer Coat, or
Surface of the Wall may likewise serve as to
Pavements, of which we promised to speak,
only that on Pavements we never bestow fine
Painting nor such good Mosaic Work, unless
you will grant the Name of Painting to a Par-
get of various Colours poured into hollow little
Spaces separated from each other by thin Par-
titions of Marble in Imitation of Painting. This
Parget may be made of red Oker burnt, with
Brick, Stone and the Dross of Iron; and when
it is laid on and is thoroughly dry, it must be
cleared and ground down smooth, which is done
in the following Manner: Take a hard Stone,
or rather a Piece of Lead of threescore Pound
Weight, with its lower Surface perfectly smooth;
to each End of this fasten a Rope, by which
you must draw it backwards and forwards over
your Pavement, still keeping it supplied with
Sand and Water, till it is rubbed exactly smooth,
and is polished as it ought, which it never is
unless all the Lines and Angles of the Dies an-
swer and fit one another to the greatest Nice-
ness. If this Parget be rubbed over with Oil,
especially that of Linseed, it will get a Coat
like Glass. It also does very well to anoint it
with Lees of Oil, as also with Water in which
Lime has been quenched, with which you
should rub it over often. In all our Mosaic
Works we should avoid using the same Co-
lours too often in the same Places, as also too
frequent Repetitions of the same Ligures and
Irregularity in the Composition of them. We
should likewise take Care that the Junctures
are not too wide, but that every Thing be fit-
ted together with the utmost Exactness, that
equal Care may appeal – to have been used in all
Parts of the Work.

CHAP. XI.

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1

Of the Ornaments of the Covering, which consist in the Richness and Beauty
of the Rafters, Vaults and open Terrasses.

The Coverings too have their Beauty and
Gratefulness from the Contrivance of
the Rafters, Vaults and open Terrasses. There
are Roofs yet to be seen in Agrippa ‘ s Portico
with Rafters of Brass, forty Foot long; a Work
wherein we know not which to admire most,
the Greatness of the Expence, or the Skill of
the Workmen. In the Temple of Diana at
Ephesus, as we have taken Notice elsewhere,
was a Roof of Cedar, which lasted a vast
While. Pliny relates that Salauces King of
Colchos, after he had overcome Sesostris King
of A Egypt , made his Rafters of Gold and Sil-
ver. There are still to be seen Temples covered
with Slabs of Marble, as, we are told, was the
Temple of ferusalem with prodigious large
ones of such wonderful Whiteness and Splen-
dor, that at a Distance the whole Roof appeal-
ed like a Mountain of Snow. Catulus was the
first that gilt the Brass Tiles on the Capitol
with Gold. I find too that the Pantheon, or
Rotonda at Rome, was covered with Plates of
Brass gilt; and Pope Honorius, he in whose
Time Mahomet taught / Egypt and Africa a
new Religion and Worship, covered the Church
of St. Peter all over with Plates of Brass. Ger-
many shines with Tiles glazed over. In many
Places we cover our Roofs with Lead, which
will endure a great While, shews very hand-
some, and is not very expensive; but it is at-
tended with this Inconvenience, that if it is laid
upon a Stone Roof, not having room for Air
under it, when the Stones come to be heated
by the Rays of the Sun, it will melt. There
is an Experiment which may convince us of
the Truth of this. If you set a leaden Vessel
full of Water upon the Fire, it will not melt;

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but if you throw the least Stone into it,
where that touches it will immediately melt
into a Hole. Besides this, if it is not well
cramped and pinned down in all Parts, it is
easily ripped off by the Wind. Moreover it is
presently eat into and spoilt by the Saltness of
Lime; so that it does much the best upon
Timbers, if you are not afraid of Fire: But
here again, there is a great Inconvenience arif-
ing from the Nails, especially if they are of
Iron, inasmuch as they are more apt to grow
hoter than Stone, and, besides, eat away the
Lead all about them with Rust. For this
Reason the Cramps and Pins ought also to be
all of Lead, and must be fastened into the
Sheets with hot Sodder. Under this Covering
you should make a thin Bed of Ashes of Wil-
low, washed and mixed with Chalk. Brass
Nails are not so apt to grow hot or to rust, as

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Iron ones. If Lead is daubed with any Sort
of Fil h, it quickly spoils; and for this Reason
we should take Care that our Roof be not a
convenient Harbour for Birds; or if it is a like-
ly Place for them to get together in, we should
make our Stuff thick where their Dung is to
fall. Eusebius tells us, that all round the Top
of Solomon ‘ s Temple there was a great Number
of Chains, to which hung four hundred little
Bells continually vibrating, the Noise of which
drove away the Birds. In the Covering we
also adorn the Ridge, Gutters and Angles, by
setting up Vases, Balls, Statues, Chariots and
the like, each of which we shall speak of in
particular in its due Place. At present I do
not call to Mind any thing further relating to
this Sort of Ornaments in general, except that
each be adapted to the Place to which it is
most suitable.

CHAP. XII.

That the Ornaments of the Apertures are very pleasing, but are attended with
many and various Difficulties and Inconveniences; that the false Apertures
are of two Sorts, and what is required in each.

The Ornaments of the Aperture give no
small Beauty and Dignity to the Work,
but they are attended with many great Diffi-
culties, which cannot be provided against
without a good deal of Skill in the Artificer,
and a considerable Expence. They require very
large Stones, sound, equal, handsome and rare,
which are Things not easily to be got, and
when got not easily removed, polished, or set
up according to your Intention. Cicero says,
that the Architects owned they could not set
up a Column exactly perpendicular, which in
all Apertures is absolutely necessary both with
Respect to Duration and Beauty. There are

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other Inconveniencies besides; which, as far as
lies in our Power, we shall endeavour to pro-
vide against. An Aperture naturally implies
an Opening; but sometimes behind this Open-
ing we run up a Wall which makes a Kind
of false Opening which is not pervious but
closed up; which for this Reason we shall ac-
cordingly call a false Aperture. This Sort of
Ornaments, as indeed were most of those
which serve either to strengthen the Work or
to save Expence, was first invented by the
Carpenters, and afterwards imitated by the
Masons, who thereby gave no small Beauty to
their Structures. Any of these Apertures would
be more beautiful if their Ribs were all of one
Piece, made of one entire Stone; and next to
this, is the having the Parts so nicely joined
that the Joints cannot be seen. The Ancients
used to erect their Columns and other Stones
which served as Ribs to these false Apertures,
and fix them firm on their Bases, before they
carried up the Wall; and herein they did very
wisely; for by this Means they had more Room
to use their Engines, and could take the Per-
pendicular more exactly. You may plant your
Column perpendicular upon its Base in the fol-
lowing Manner: In the Base and at the Top
and Bottom of the Column mark the exact
Center of each Circle. Into the Center of the
Base fasten an iron Pin, soddering it in with
Lead, and make a Hole in the Center of the
Bottom of the Column, just big enough to re-
ceive the Pin which sticks up in the Center of
the Base. In the Top of your Engine, or
Scaffolding, make a Mark exactly perpendicu-
lar over the Pin which sticks up in the Center
of the Base, which you may find by letting sail
Line from thence to that Pin. When you
have thus prepared every Thing, it will be no
hard Matter to move the Head of the Shaft

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till its Center answers exactly to the Mark
which you have made above and is perpendi-
cular – to the Center of its Base. I have observ-
ed from the Works of the Ancients that the
softer Sort of Marble may be smoothed with
the very same Instruments with which we
plane Wood. The Ancients also used to set
up their Stones quite rough, only smoothing
the Heads and Sides of them which were to
join to other Stones, and asterwards when the
Building was raised, they polished the Faces of
the Stones, which they had lest rough before;
and this I believe they did that they might
leave the least Expence that was possible to the
Hazards of their Engines: For it would have
been a much greater Loss to them, if by Acci-
dent any Stone that was quite smoothed and
polished had been let fall and broke, than if

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they broke one that was only half wrought.
Besides that by this means they had the Ad-
vantage of doing their Work at different Times,
according to the different Seasons which are re-
quisite for building the Wall, and for cloathing

and polishing it. There are two Sorts of false
Apertures: One is that where the Columns or
Pilasters are so joined to the Wall, that one Part
of them is hid within it, and only Part of them
appears; the other is that wherein the whole
Columns stand out of the Wall, somewhat
imitating a Portico. The former therefore we
may call the low Relieve, and the latter the
whole Relieve. In the low Relieve we may use
either half Columns or Pilasters. The half
Columns must never stand more nor less out of
the Wall than one half of their Diameter. Pi-
laster, never more than one fourth Part of its
Breadth, nor less than a sixth. In the whole
Relieve the Columns must never stand out
from the Naked of the Wall more than with
their whole Base and one fourth Part of the
Breadth of their Base; and never less than with
their whole Base and Shast standing out clear
from the Wall. But those which stand out
from the Wall with their whole Base and one
fourth Part more must have their Pilasters of
the low Relieve, fixed against the Wall to an-
swer to them. In the whole Relieve the En-
tablature must not run all along the Wall but
be broke and project over the Head of each
Column, as you may see in Plate 19. No. 4.

But in the half Relieve you may do as you
think fit, either carrying on your Entablature
entire all the Length of the Wall, or breaking
it over each Pilaster with a Sweep, after the
Manner of the whole Relieve. We have now
treated of those Ornaments wherein all Build-
ings agree: But of those wherein they differ,

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1

we shall speak in the following Book, this be-
ing already long enough. But as in this we
undertook to treat of every Thing relating to
Ornaments in general, we shall not pass by any
Thing that may be serviceable under this Head.

  • A. Plan of the Inter— space of the two half
    Columns, called Basso Relievo.

CHAP. XIII.

Of Columns and their Ornaments, their Plans, Axes, Out— lines, Sweeps, Di-
minutions, Swells, Astragals and Fillets.

The principal Ornament in all Archi-
tecture certainly lies in Columns; for
many of them set together embellish Porticoes,

Walls and all Manner of Apertures, and even
a single one is handsome, and adorns the Meet-
ing of several Streets, a Theatre, an open
Square, serves for setting up Trophies, and pre-
serving the Memory of great Events, and is so
Beautiful and Noble that it is almost incredible
what Expence the Ancients used to bestow in
single Pillars, which they looked upon as a very
stately Ornament: For ostentimes, not being
content with making them of Parian, Nu-
midian or other fine Marbles, they would also
have them carved with Figures and Histories
by the most excellent Sculptors; and of such
Columns as these we are told there were above
an Hundred and Twenty in the Temple of
Diana at Ephesus. Others made their Capi-
tals and Bases of gilt Brass, as we may see in
the double Portico at Rome, which was built
in the Consulship of that Octavius who tri-
umphed over Perseus. Some made their whole
Columns of Brass, and others plated them all

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1

over with Silver; but we shall not dwell upon
such Things as those. Columns must be ex-
actly round and perfectly smooth. We read
that one Theodorus and one Tholus, Architects
of Lemnos , contrived certain Wheels in their
Workhouses, wherein they hung their Columns
with so nice a Poise, that they could be turned
about by a little Boy, and so polished smooth.
But this is a Greek Story. We shall proceed
to something more material. In all Columns
we may consider two long Lines in the Shaft;
one we may call the Axis of the Shaft, and the
other the Out-lines; the short Lines that we
are to consider are the several Diameters of
those Circles which in different Places gird the
Column about; and of those Circles, the prin-
cipal are the two Superficies; one at the Top
and the other at the Bottom of the Shaft. The
Axis of the Shaft is a Line drawn through the
very Center of the Column from the Center of
the Circle which forms the flat Superficies at
the Top, to the Center of the Circle which is
the flat Superficies at the Bottom, and this
Line may be also called the Perpendicular in
the Middle of the Column. In this Line meet
the Centers of all the Circles. But the out Line
is one drawn from the Sweep of the Fillet at
the Top along the Surface of the Column to

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1

PLATE 16. ( Page 130, No. 1)

418

1

PLATE 17. ( Page 130, No. 2)

419

1

PLATE 18. ( Page 130, No. 3)

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1

PLATE 19. ( Page 130, No. 4)

421

1

PLATE 20. ( Page 131)

422

1

the Sweep of the Fillet at Bottom; and in this
terminate all the Diameters that are in the
Thickness of the Shast, and it does not run
strait like the Axis, but is composed of a great
Number of Lines, some strait and some curve;
as we shall shew hereafter. The several Dia-
meters of Circles which we are to consider in
different Parts of the Column, are sive; the
Sweeps, the Diminutions, and the Swell or Belly
of the Shaft. The Sweeps are two, one at the
Top and the other at the Bottom of the Co-
lumn, and are called Sweeps upon account of
their running out a little beyond the Rest of
the Shaft, The Diminutions are likewise two,
close by the Sweeps at the Bottom and Top,
and are so called because in those Parts the

Shaft diminishes inwards. The Diameter of
the Swell or Belly of the Column is to be ob-
served about the Middle of the Shaft, and is
called the Belly, because the Column seems to
swell out just in that Part. Again, the Sweeps
differ from one another, for that which is at
the Bottom is formed by the Fillet and a small
Curve running from the Fillet to the Body of
the Shaft; but the Sweep at the Top of the
Shast, besides this Curve and its Fillet has like-
wise the Astragal. Lastly, the Out-lines must
be formed in the following Manner: On the
Pavement, or upon the flat Side of a Wall,
which is proper for the Drawing your Design,
draw a strait Line, of the Length which you
intend to give the Column, which perhaps is
as yet in the Quarry. This Line we call the
Axis of the Shaft. Then divide this Axis into
a certain Number of determinate Parts, ac-
cording to the Nature of the Building, and of
the various Sorts of Columns which you are to
erect, of which Variety we shall speak in due
Time; and according to a due Proportion of

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1

these Parts you must make the Diameter of the
Bottom of your Shaft, with a little Line drawn
across the Axis. The Diameter you divide in-
to four-and-twenty Parts, one of which you
give to the Height of the Fillet, which Height
we mark upon the Wall with a small Stroke;
then take three more of those Parts, and at
that Height make a Mark in the Axis of the
Shaft, which is to be the Center of the next
Diminution, and through this Center draw a
Line exactly parallel with the Diameter of the
Bottom of the Shaft, which Line must be the
Diameter of the lower Diminution, and be one
seventh Part shorter than the Diameter of the
Bottom of the Shaft. Having marked these
two Lines, that is to say, the Diameter of the
Diminution, and the Fillet, draw from the
Point of the End of the Fillet to the Point of
that Diameter in the Shaft of the Column a
curve Line, as easy and neat as possible; the
Beginning of this curve Line must be one Quar-
ter of a little Circle, the Semi-diameter of
which must be the Height of the Fillet. Then
divide the whole Length of the Shaft into seven
equal Parts, and mark those Divisions with lit-
tle Dots. At the fourth Dot, counting from
the Bottom, make the Center of the Belly of
the Shaft, across which draw its Diameter,
whose Length must be equal to the Diameter
of the Diminution at the Bottom. The Di-
minution and Sweep at the Top must be made
as follows: According to the Species of the
Column, of which we shall treat elsewhere,
take the Diameter of the upper Superficies from
the Diameter of the Bottom of the Shaft, and
draw it at the Top of the Column in your De-
sign; which Diameter so drawn must be di-
vided into twelve Parts, one of which Parts
must be allowed to the Projecture of the Fillet
and Astragal, giving two thirds of it to the

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latter, and one third to the former. Then
make the Center of your Diminution, at the
Distance of one and a half of those Parts from
the Center of the upper Surface of the Shaft,
and the Diameter of this Diminution a ninth
Part less than the largest Diameter of that Sur-
face. You must afterwards draw the Curve or
Sweep in the same Manner as I taught you to
draw that below. Lastly, having thus marked
in your Design the Sweeps, Diminutions, and
all the other Particulars which we have here
mentioned, draw a strait Line from the Dimi-
nution at the Top, and another from the Di-
minution at the Bottom to the Diameter of the
Belly or Swell of the Column, and this will
make in your Design what we called the Out-
line of the Column, and by this Line you may
make a Model of Wood by which your Ma-
sons may shape and finish the Column itself.
The Superficies of the Bottom of the Shaft, if
the Column be exactly rounded, must make
equal Angles on all Sides with the Axis in the
Middle, and with the like Superficies at the Top
of the Shaft. These Things I do not find com-
mitted to writing by any of the Ancients, but I
have gathered them by my own Industry and
Application from the Works of the best Ma-
sters. All that is to follow may be for the
most Part referred to the Proportions of the
Lines already treated of, and will be very de-
lightful and of great Use, especially to the Im-
provement of Painters.

  • The End of Book

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1

THE

ARCHITECTURE

OF

Leone Batista Alberti.

BOOK VII. CHAP. I.

Of the ORNAMENTS of Sacred EDIFICES.

That the Walls of Cities, the Temples, and Courts of Justice, used to be con-
secrated to the Gods; of the proper Region for the City, its Situation and
principal Ornaments.

We have already observed that all
Buildings consist of several Parts,
and that of these Parts some are
those wherein all Manner of Build-
ings in general agree; such as Si-
tuation, Covering, and the like; and others,
those wherein they differ. We have already
treated of the Ornaments which belong to the
former; we are now to speak of those which
are proper to the latter. And this Discourse
will be of so useful a Nature, that even Painters,
those most accurate Searchers after every Thing
that is beautiful, will confess, that they them-
selves have absolute Occasion for it. As for
the Pleasantness of it, I shall only say, that I be-
lieve nobody will repent his having read it.

But I must now desire not to be blamed, if,
having proposed new Ends to myself, I begin
to handle my Subject upon fresh Principles.

The Principles and Steps to any Subject are
found by the Division, Intent and Considera-
tion of the Parts whereof that Subject consists.

For as in a Statue made of Brass, Gold and
Silver melted together, the Workman considers
the Parts with regard to their Weight, the
Statuary with regard to their Out-lines, and
others perhaps as to other Respects; so, as we

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have observed before, the Parts of Architecture
ought to be divided in such a Manner, that our
Considerations upon each of them may be as
clear and distinct as possible. We shall now
therefore proceed upon that Division which
regards the Beauty and Ornament of Buildings,
more than either their Conveniency or Strength.
Though indeed all these Qualifications have
such a mutual Agreement with one another,
that where any one of them is wanting, the
others also lose their Commendation. All
Buildings therefore are either publick or pri-
vate; and both publick and private, are either
sacred or profane. We shall first treat of pub-
lick Edifices. The Ancients used to found the
Walls of their Cities with the greatest Religion,
dedicating them to some God who was to be
their Guardian: Nor did they think that it
was possible for the publick Weal to be so per-
fectly secured by the Prudence of any Man
whatsoever, but that it might be endangered

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1

by the Insults and Treachery of those who
were concerned with it; and they were of Opi-
nion that a City, either through the Negli-
gence of its own People, or the Envy of its
Neighbours, was continually exposed to Dangers
and Accidents; just as a Ship is which is tossed
on the Sea. And upon this Account I suppose,
they fabled that Saturn, out of his Care of hu-
man Affairs, appointed Semi-Gods and Heroes
to be Guardians over Cities and to protect them
by their Wisdom; since indeed we arc not to
trust wholly to Walls for our Defence, but
stand in need besides of the Favour of Heaven.
And the Reason they gave for Saturn ‘ s so do-
ing was this, that as we do not set one of the
Beasts themselves to take Care of a Flock or
Herd, but a Shepherd; so it was reasonable
that the Guardians appointed over Men, should
be some other Kind of Beings of superior Wis-
dom and greater Virtue than common Men;
and therefore they dedicated their Walls to the
Gods. Others say, that it is so ordered by the
Providence of the great and good God, that as
the Minds of Men have their fatal Genii, so
have Cities also. It is no Wonder therefore
that the Walls within which the Citizens were
to be associated and defended, were accounted
holy; and that the Ancients, whenever they
were about to lay Siege to any Town, lest they
should seem to offer any Insult to Religion,
used to invoke, and with sacred Hymns en-
deavoured to appease the Gods that were
Guardians of the Place, beseeching them to
pass willingly over to them. As for the Tem-
ple, who can doubt that to be sacred, as well
for other Reasons, as chiefly because we there
pay the due Reverence and Honour to God
for those infinite Obligations which Mankind
has towards him? Piety is one of the Princi-
pal Parts of Justice, and who can doubt that

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1

Justice is a Present from Heaven? Another
Part of Justice which has a very near Relation
to the preceding, and is of the greatest Excel-
lence and Dignity, and extremely grateful to
the divine Being, and consequently highly
sacred, it is that which is dispensed between
Man and Man for the Maintenance of Peace
and Tranquillity, and giving to every one his
due Deserts: For this Reason the Places set
apart for the Administration of Justice, should
always be looked upon as sacred to Religion.
What shall we say of the Monuments of great
Actions and Events which are dedicated to
Eternity, and left to future Ages? Surely we
may venture to affirm, that all these have some
Relation to Justice and Religion. We are
now therefore to treat of the Walls, Temples,
Places for the Administration of Justice, and
Monuments of great Events; unless it may be
first thought necessary to set down some Ob-
servations concerning Cities in general, which
ought not to be omitted. A large Number of
Edifices well distributed, and disposed in their
proper Places, cannot fail of giving a City a
great Air of Magnificence. Plato was for di-
viding the whole Area of a City into twelve
Parts, allotting to each its particular Temples
and Chapels, To these I would add particu-
lar Courts of Judicature for each District, to-
gether with Places for other inferior Magi-
strates, Fortresses, Spaces for publick Races,
Exercises and Games, and every Thing else of
this Nature, provided there be a sufficient
Number of Houses to be allotted to every Dis-
trict: For of Cities, some are large, others
small; such as are generally fortified Towns,
and Places designed chiefly for Strength. The
ancient Writers were of Opinion that the Cities
which stood in Plains were not very ancient,
and therefore could not pretend to much Au-

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1

thority; believing that such could not be built
till long after the Deluge. But. indeed, Cities
in large open Plains, and Castles in Places of
steep and difficult Access, are best situated
both for Pleasure and Convenience: But still
in each of these I would always have this Dif-
ference, that the Town which stands in a Plain
should rise upon a gentle Slope, for the Re-
moval of Dirt and Filth; and that which is on
a Hill, should be built upon a level and even
Area, for the greater Beauty of the Streets and
Buildings. Cicero was of Opinion, that Capua
was preferable to Rome, because it neither hung
upon Hills, nor was broken by Vallies, but lay
open and level. Alexander desisted from com-
pleating the Town he had begun to build in
the Island of Pharos, though otherwise a Place
of great Strength and many Conveniences, be-
cause he found it would not have Room enough
to enlarge itself, as in all Probability it would
have Occasion to do. Nor should we omit to
take Notice here, that the greatest Ornament
of a City is the Multitude of her Citizens. We
read that Tigranes, when he built the City of
Tigranocerta, constrained a vast Number of the
Richest and most Honourable of his Subjects,
to remove thither with all their Wealth to in-
habit it, publishing an Edict, that whatever
Effects they did not cany with them, but left
elsewhere, should be forfeited to the publick

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1

Treasury. But this is no more than what the
Neighbours all around, and other Strangers,
will do willingly and of their own Accord, to
a Place where they know they can live with
Health, Pleasure and Plenty, and among a
People of a fair and regular Behaviour. But
the principal Ornament of the City will arise
srom the Disposition of the Streets, Squares and
publick Edifices, and their being all laid out
and contrived beautifully and conveniently, ac-
cording to their several Uses; for without Or-
der, there can be nothing Handsome, Conve-
nient or Pleasing. In a well regulated City,

Plato is of Opinion that the Laws should pre-
vent the introducing of any foreign Delicacies
or Corruptions; and, in order thereto should
suffer no Citizen to travel till full forty Years
of Age; and that such Strangers as should be
admitted into the City, in order to prosecute
their Studies, when they had sufficiently im-
proved themselves, should be sent Home again
to their own Country. And this is necessary,
because the Citizens, from the Contagion of
Foreigners, are apt to fall off daily more and
more from that Parsimony wherein they were
educated by their Ancestors, and to despise
their own old Customs and Usages; which is
the chief Reason that Cities grow so univer-
sally corrupted. Plutarch tells us, that the
People of Epidaurus observing that their Citi-
zens grew vicious by their Intercourse with the
Illyrians , and knowing that a Depravity of
Manners is always the Occasion of continual
Innovations; in order to prevent it, elected one
Citizen yearly out of their Number, who was
always to be a Man of Gravity and Circum-
spection, who should go among the Illyrians ,
and provide and bring them all such Things as
any of these Citizens gave him Commission to
procure them. In a Word, all the wisest Men

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1

are agreed in this, that the greatest Care and
Precaution ought to be used to keep the City
from being corrupted by the Intercourse of
Strangers who come to it. Not that I am for imi-
tating those who are against granting Admission
to any Strangers whatsoever. Among the Greeks
it was the ancient Custom never to receive any
People that were not in League with them,
though not in Enmity neither, if they had Oc-
casion to pass through their Country in Arms:
Neither would they drive them away; but
they used to appoint a Market for all Necessa-
ries at some little Distance without the Walls,
where the Strangers might refresh themselves
with whatever Conveniencies they wanted, and
the Citizens might not be exposed to any
Danger. But I, for my Part, am best pleased
with the Carthaginians, who, though they
permitted Strangers to come among them,
would not suffer them to have every Thing
in common with their own Citizens. The
Streets which led to the Market or publick
Place were open to all Strangers; but the more
private Parts of the City, such as the Arsenal,
and the like, they were not allowed so much
as to see. Instructed therefore by these Ex-
amples, let us lay out the Platform of our City
in such a Manner, that not only Strangers may
have their Habitations separate, convenient for
them, and not inconvenient to the Citizens;
but also that the Citizens themselves may con-
verse, negociate and dwell together commo-
diously and honourably, according to their se-
veral Ranks and Occasions. It will add much
to the Beauty of the City, if the Shops for par-
ticular Trades stand in particular’ Streets and
Districts in the most convenient Parts of the
Town. Goldsmiths, Silversmiths and Painters
may have their Shops in the publick Place, and
so may the Sellers of Drugs, of Habits, and

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1

other creditable Trades; but all nasty, stink-
ing Occupations should be removed out of the
Way, especially the offensive Smells of Tan-
ners, which should be set by themselves and
towards the North, because the Winds seldom
blow into the City from that Corner; or, if
they do, they blow so strong that they rather
fly than pass over it. There may perhaps be
some who would like better to have the Ha-
bitations of the Gentry separate by themselves,
quite clear and free from all Mixture with the
meaner Sort of People. Others are for having
every District of the City so laid out, that each
Part might be supplied at Hand with every
Thing that it could have Occasion for, and for
this Reason they are not against having the
meanest Trades in the Neighbourhood of the
most honourable Citizens. But of this Sub-
ject we have said enough. Conveniency is one
Thing, and Dignity another. Let us now
return.

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CHAP. II.

Of how large and what Kind of Stone the Walls ought to be built, and who
were the first that erected Temples.

The Ancients, and particularly the He—
trurians, built their Walls of square
Stones, and the Largest that could be got.

The Athenians, as we are informed by Themis-
tocles, did the same in their Pireum. There
are some very ancient Castles still to be seen in
Tuscany, and in the Territory of Spoleto, and
near Piperno in Campania, built of huge un-
wrought Stone; which Sort of Work pleases
me extremely, because it gives the Building a
rugged Air of the antique Severity, which is a
very great Ornament to a Town. I would
have the Walls of a City built in such a Man-
ner, that the Enemy at the bare Sight of them
may be struck with Terror, and be sent away
with a Distrust of his own Forces. There is
a good deal of Majesty too in very broad deep
Ditches close to the Foot of the Wall, with
very steep Sides, like those which we arc told
were at Babylon, which were fifty royal Cubits
broad and above an hundred deep. There is
also much Majesty in the Height and Thick-
ness of the Walls themselves, such as we are
told were built by Ninus, Semiramis and 77-
granes, and most of those whose Minds were
inclined to Magnificence. In the Towers and
Corridors of the Walls of Rome, I have seen
Pavements of Mosaic Work, and Walls incrus-
tated with the handsomest Materials; but all
Ornaments are not suitable to all Cities alike.

Delicate Cornices and Incrustations arc not so
proper for the Walls of a Town; but instead of
a Cornice let there be a projecting Row of long
Stones, somewhat more regularly wrought than
the Rest, and set by the Fevel and Plum-line;

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and instead of Incrustations, tho’ I would have
the Front preserve its rugged and threatning
Aspect, yet I would have the Stones so well fit-
ted to one another, that there may be no
Cracks in the Building. The best Way to fit
such Stones together is by Means of the Doric
Rule; like which Aristotle used to say, the
Laws ought to be made; for it was of Lead
and pliable; because having very hard Stones
and difficult to be wrought, for the saving of
Expence and Labour, they did not take the
Pains to square them, but set them in the Wall
without any certain Order and where-ever they
would fit in; and finding it an endless Task
to remove them from Place to Place till they
could fit them in exactly, they invented this
Rule which would bend any Way, which they
moulded to the Sides and Corners of the Stone
which they had already set, and to which they
were to fit the next, and made use of the Rule
thus moulded for chusing out such Stones as
would fit the Vacancies they were to fill up,
and answer best to the Stones which they had
already set in the Wall. Moreover, for a still
greater Addition of Reverence and Dignity, I
would have a very handsome open Space left
both within and without the Walls, and dedi-
cated to the publick Liberty; which should
not be cumbered up by any Person whatsoever,
either with Trench, Wall, Hedge, or Shrub,
under very great Penalties. Let us now pro-
ceed to the Temple. The first Builders of
Temples I find to have been in Italy, Father
Janus, and for that Reason the Ancients, in
their Sacrifices, used always to begin with a
Prayer to Janus. Some were of Opinion that
Jupiter in Crete was the first that built Tem-
ples, and upon that Account thought him the
first God to be adored. They say that in Phe-
nicia, Uso was the first that erected Altars, and

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1

built Temples to Fire and Wind. Others tell
us that Dionysius, another Name for Bacchus,
in his Passage through India, finding no Cities
in all that Region, after he had built Towns
there, also erected Temples and established re-
ligious Rites. Others say that in Achaia, Ce-
crops was the first that built a Temple to the
Goddess Ops, and the Arcadians the first that
built one to Jupiter. Some write that Isis,
who was also called the Law-giver, because she
was the first Deity that commanded Men to
live according to her Laws, was also the first
that raised a Temple to Jupiter and Juno her
Progenitors, and appointed Priests to attend their
Worship. But what Manner of Temples any
of these were, is not so well known. I am
very much inclined to believe they were like
that which was in the Citadel of Athens, or
that in the Capitol at Rome; which, even when

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the City flourished, was covered with Straw
and Reeds, the Romans still adhering to the an-
cient Parsimony of their Forefathers. But when
the great Wealth of their Kings and of many
of their Citizens brought them to think of ho-
nouring themselves and their City by the State-
liness of their Edifices, they looked upon it to
be a Shame that the Flabitations of the Gods
should not be made handsomer than the Flouses
of Men; and this Humour in a short Time
made so great a Progress, that only in the
Foundation of one single Temple, while the
City was yet extremely frugal, King Numa
laid out four thousand Pounds Weight of Sil-
ver: And I highly commend that Prince for
this Act of Generosity, as it was done out of
Regard to the Dignity of the City, and to the
Reverence which is due to the Gods, to whom
we owe all Things: Though it has been the
Opinion of some, who have had the Reputati-
on of Wisdom, that it is very improper to de-
dicate or build any Temples at all to the Gods,
and we are told, that it was in this Persuasion
that Xerxes burnt down the Temples in Greece,
thinking it an impious Thing to shut up the
Gods between Walls, to whom all Things
ought to be open, and to whom the whole
World ought to serve as a Temple. But let
us return to our Subject.

CHAP. III.

With how much Thought, Care and Diligence we ought to lay out and adorn
our Temples; to what Gods and in what Places we should build them, and
of the various Kinds of Sacrifices.

In the whole Compass of the Art of Build-
ing, there is nothing in which we ought to
employ more Thought, Care and Diligence
than in the laying out and adorning a Tem-

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pie; because, not to mention that a Temple
well built and handsomely adorned is the great-
est and noblest Ornament a City can have; it
is moreover the Habitation of the Gods: And
if we adorn and beautify the House where a
King or any great Man is to dwell, with all the
Art we are Masters of, what ought we to do
to those of the immortal Gods? Whom we
expect, when invoked, to be present at our Sa-
crifices, and to give Ear to our Prayers. And
though the Gods may despise those perishable
Things which we most highly value; yet Men
are moved by the Purity of beautiful Materials,
and raised by them to Reverence and Devoti-
on for the Deity to which they are sacred. It
is certain that Temples may be of great Use
for stirring up Men to Piety, by filling their
Minds with Delight, and Entertaining them
with Admiration of their Beauty. The An-
cients were wont to say, that Piety was ho-
noured when the Temples were frequented.

For this Reason I would have the Temple
made so beautiful, that the Imagination should
not be able to form an Idea of any Place more
so; and I would have every Paid so contrived
and adorned, as to fill the Beholders with Awe
and Amazement, at the Consideration of so
many noble and excellent Things, and almost
force them to cry out with Astonishment:

This Place is certainly worthy of God! Strabo
says, that the Milesians built their Temple so
large, that they were not able to make a Roof
to cover it; which I do not approve. The
Samians boasted of having the biggest Temple
in the World. I am not against building them
such, that it should be very hard to make any
Addition to them. Ornaments are in a Man-
ner infinite, and even in small Temples there is
always something which we imagine might
and ought to be added. I would have the

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Temple as large as the Bigness of the City re-
quires, but not unmeasurably huge. What I
should chiefly desire in a Temple, would be
this, that every Thing which you behold should
be such; that you should be at a Stand which
most to commend, the Genius and Skill of the
Workmen, or the Zeal and Generosity of the
Citizens in procuring and dedicating such rare
and beautiful Materials to this Service; and
be doubtful whether those very Materials con-
duce most to Beauty and Stateliness, or to Du-
ration, which, as in all other Buildings both
publick and private, so chiefly in the Structure
of Temples, ought to be very carefully con-
sulted; in as much as it is in the highest De-
gree reasonable that such a great Expence
should be well secured from being lost by means
of any Accidents, besides that Antiquity gives

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no less Awfulness, than Ornaments do Beauty,
to any Structure of this Nature. The Anci-
ents, who had their Instructions from the
Etrurians, thought the same Kind of Situation
not proper for the Temples of different Gods:
The Temples to the Gods that presided over
Peace, Modesty and good Arts, they judged
fit to be placed within the Compass of the
Walls; but those Deities that were the Guar-
dians of Pleasures, Feuds and Combustions,
such as Venus, Mars and Vulcan, they placed
somewhere without the City. Vesta, Jupiter
and Minerva, whom Plato calls the Protectors
of Cities, they seated in the Fleart of the
Town, or in the Citadel; Pallas, the Goddess
of working Trades, and Mercury, to whom the
Merchants sacrificed in the Month of May,
and Isis, they set in the publick Market-place;
Neptune, upon the Sea-shore, and Janus on
the Summit of the highest Hills; the Temple
of Aesculapius they built in the Island of the
Tiber, being of Opinion that the chief Thing
necessary to the Sick, was Water. In other
Countries Plutarch tells us, that they used to
place the Temple of this God out of the City,
for the Sake of the Goodness of the Air. Fur-
ther, they imagined that the Temples of vari-
ous Gods ought to be built in various Forms.
The Temple of the Sun and of Bacchus they
thought should be round; and Varro says,
that of Jupiter should be partly uncovered at the
Top, because it was that God who opened the
Seeds of all Things. The Temple of the God-
dess Vesta, supposing her to be the Earth, they
built as round as a Ball: Those of the other
celestial Gods they raised somewhat above the
Ground; those of the infernal Gods they built
under Ground, and those of the terrest ial
they set upon the Level. If I am not mistaken
too, their various Sorts of Sacrifices made them

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invent different Sorts of Temples: For some
washed their Altars with Blood, others sacrificed
with Wine and a Cake; others were daily
practising new Rites. Posthumius enacted a
Law among the Romans , that no Wine should
be sprinkled upon a funeral Pile; for which
Reason the Ancients used to perform their Li-
bations not with Wine but Milk. In the Hy-
perborean Island in the Ocean, where Latona
was fabled to be born, the Metropolis was con-
secrated to Apollo; the Citizens of which, be-
ing used constantly every Day to sing the
Praises of their Gods, were all good Masters of
Musick. I find in Theophrastus the Sophist, that
the People of the Isthmus, or the Morea, used
to sacrifice an Ant to the Sun and to Neptune.

It was not lawful for the Egyptians to appease
their Gods by any Thing but Prayers within
their City; wherefore, that they might sacri-
fice Sheep to Saturn and Serapis, they built
their Temples out of the Town. But our
Countrymen by Degrees got into a Way of
making use of Basiliques or Palaces for their
Places of Worship; which was occasioned by
their being accustomed from the Beginning to
meet and get together in the Palaces of private
Persons; besides, that the Altar had a very
great Air of Dignity when set in the Place of
the Tribunal, as had also the Choir when dis-
posed about the Altar. The other Parts of the
Structure, such as the Nave and the Portico,
served the People either to walk about in, or
to attend the religious Ceremonies. Add to
this, that the Voice of the Pontiff, when he
preached, might be more distinctly heard in a
Basilique cieled with a Timber, than in a Tem-
ple with a vaulted Roof: But of these Things
we shall treat in another Place. It may not
be amiss to take Notice here of what the An-
cients tell us, that the Temples dedicated to

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Venus, Diana, the Muses, the Nymphs and the
more tender Goddesses, ought in their Struc-
ture to imitate that Virgin’ s Delicacy and smil-
ing Gaiety of Youth, which is proper to them;
but that Hercules, Mars, and the other greater
Deities should have Temples which should ra-
ther fill the Beholders with Awe by their Gra-
vity, than with Pleasure by their Beauty. Last-
ly, the Place where you intend to fix a Tem-
ple, ought to be noted, famous, and indeed
stately, clear from all Contagion of secular
Things, and, in order thereunto, it should have
a spacious handsome Area in its Front, and be
surrounded on every Side with great Streets, or
rather with noble Squares, that you may have
a beautiful View of it on every Side.

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CHAP. IV.

Of the Parts, Forms and Figures of Temples and their Chapels, and how these
latter should be distributed.

The Parts of the Temple are two; the
Portico and the Inside: But they differ
very much from one another in both these Re-
spects; for some Temples are round, some
square, and others, lastly, have many Sides. It
is manifest that Nature delights principally in
round Figures, since we find that most Things
which arc generated, made or directed by Na-
ture, are round. Why need I instance in the
Stars, Trees, Animals, the Nests of Birds, or
the like Parts of the Creation, which she has
chosen to make generally round? We find too
that Nature is sometimes delighted with Figures
of six Sides; for Bees, Hornets, and all other
Kinds of Wasps have learnt no other Figure
for building their Cells in their Hives, but the
Hexagon. The Area for a round Temple
should be marked out exactly circular. The
Ancients, in almost all their quadrangular
Temples made the Platform half as long again
as it was broad. Some made it only a third
Part of the Breadth longer; and others would
have it full thrice the Breadth long. But in
all these quadrangular Platforms the greatest
Blemish is for the Corners to be not exactly
rectangular. The Polygons used by the An-
cients were either of six, eight, or sometimes

ten Sides. The Angles of such Platforms
should all terminate within a Circle, and indeed
from a Circle is the best Way of deducing
them; for the Semidiameter of the Circle will
make one of the six Sides which can be con-
tained in that Circle. And if from the Cen-
ter you draw Right-lines to cut each of those

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six Sides exactly in the Middle, you will plainly
see what Method you are to take to draw a
Platform of twelve Sides, and from that of
twelve Sides you may make one of four, or
eight, as in Fig. B. C. Flowever here is an-
other easier Way of drawing a Platform of eight
Sides. Flaving drawn an equilateral and right-
angled Square together with its Diagonals from
Corner to Corner; from the Point where those
Diagonals intersect each other in the Middle, I
turn a Circle, opening the Compasses so wide
as to take in all the Sides of the Square; then
I divide one of those Sides into two equal Parts,
and through the Point of that Division draw a
Line from the Center to the Circumference of
the Circle D, and thus from the Point where
that Line touches the Circumference to the
Angle of the Square, will be exactly one of the
eight Sides which that Circle will contain.

We may also draw a Platform of ten Sides by
means of a Circle, in the following Manner:
Draw two Diameters in the Circle, intersecting
each other at Right-angles, and then divide
the Flalf of either of those Diameters into two
equal Parts, and from that Division draw a
straight Line upwards aslant to the Plead of
the other Diameter; and if from this slant
Line you take off the Quantity of the fourth
Part of one of the Diameters, the Remainder of
that Line will be one of the ten Sides which
can be contained in that Circle, as you may
see in Letter E. To Temples it is usual to
joyn Chapels; to some, more; to others fewer.

In quadrangular Temples it is very unusual to
make above one, and that is placed at the
Plead, so as to be seen immediately by those
that come in at the Door. If you have a Mind
to make more Chapels on the Sides, they will
not be amiss in those quadrangular Temples
which arc twice as long as broad; and there

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we should not make more than one in each
Side: Though if you do make more, it will
be better to make an odd Number on each Side
than an even one. In round Platforms, and
also in those of many Faces (if we may ven-
ture so to call them) we may very conveniently
make a greater Number of Chapels, according
to the Number of those Faces, one to each, or one
with and one without alternately, answering to
each other. In round Platforms six Chapels,
or even eight will do extremely well. In Plat-
forms of several Faces you must be sure to let
the Corners be exactly answering and suiting
to one another. The Chapels themselves must
be made either Parts of a rectangled Square, or
of a Circle. For the single Chapel at the Head
of a Temple, the semicircular Form is much
the handsomest; and next to that is the rect-
angular. But if you are to make a good Num-
ber of Chapels, it will certainly be much more

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  • PLATE 21. (Page 138)

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1

PLATE 22. ( Page 139)

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1

pleasing to the Eye, to make Part of them
square and Part round alternately, and answer-
ing one to the other. For the Aperture of
these Chapels observe the following Rule.
When you are to make a single Chapel in a
quadrangular Temple, divide the Breadth of
the Temple into four Parts, and give two of
those Parts to the Breadth of the Chapel. If
you have a Mind to have it more spacious, di-
vide that Breadth into six Parts, and give four
of them to the Breadth of your Chapel. And
thus the Ornaments and Columns which you
are to add to them, the Windows, and the like,
may be handsomely fitted in their proper
Places. If you are to make a Number of
Chapels about a round Platform, you may, if
you please, make them all of the same Size
with the principal one; but to give that the
greater Air of Dignity, I should rather chuse
to have it a twelfth Paid bigger than the rest.
There is also this other Difference in quadran-
gular Temples, that if the principal Chapel is
made of equal Lines, that is to say, in an exact
Square, it may not be amiss; but the other
Chapels ought to be twice as broad as they are
deep. The Solid of the Walls, or those Ribs
of the Building which in Temples separate one
Chapel from the other, should never have less
Thickness than the fifth Part of the Break
which is left between them, nor more than the
third; or, if you would have them extremely
strong, the half. But in round Platforms, if
the Chapels are in Number six, let the Solid or
Rib which is left between each Chapel, be one
half of the Break; and if there be eight of
those Chapels, let the solid Wall between them,
especially in great Temples, be as thick as the
whole Break for the Chapel: But if the Plat-
form consist of a great Number of Angles, let

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the Solid always be one third of the Break. In
some Temples, according to the Custom of the
ancient Hetrurians, it has been usual to adorn
the Sides not with Chapels, but with a small
Sort of Isles, in the following Manner: They
chose a Platform, which was one sixth Part
longer than it was broad: Of this Length they
assigned two of those six Parts to the Depth of
the Portico, which was to serve as a Vestibule
to the Temple; the rest they divided into three
Parts, which they gave to the three Breadths of
the side Isles. Again, they divided the Breadth
of the Temple into ten Parts, three of which
they assigned to the little Isles on the right
Hand, and as many to those on the left, and
the other four they gave to the Area in the
Middle. At the Head of the Temple, and so
fronting the Middle of each side Isle, they pla-
ced Chapels, and the Walls which separated
the several Isles they made in Thickness one
fifth Part of the Interspace.

  • CHAP. V.

Of the Porticoes and En trance to the Temple, its Ascen t, and the Apertures
and In terspaces of the Portico.

Hitherto we have spoken of the
Platform for the Inside. The Portico
to a quadrangular Temple may be either only
in Front, or on the Back of the Structure, or
else both in the Front and the back Part at the
same Time, or, lastly, it may run quite round
the Fabrick. Where-ever any Chapel projects
out, there should be no Portico. The Portico
should never be shorter, in quadrangular Tem-
ples, than the full Breadth of the Temple;
and never broader than the third Part of its

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1

Length. In those Porticoes which run along
the Sides of the Temple, let the Columns be
set as far from the Wall as they stand from one
another. The back Portico may imitate which
you please of the afore-mentioned. Circular
Temples have either a Portico quite round
them, or else have only one Portico, which
must be in Front. In both, the same Propor-
tions must be observed as in those to quadran-
gular Platforms; nor indeed must such Porti-
coes be ever made other than quadrangular.

As to their Length, it must either be equal to
the whole Breadth of the Inside of the Plat-
form, or an eighth Part less, or at the most a
fourth Part, which is the shortest that is ever
allowed. The Hebrews, according to the an-
cient Laws of their Forefathers, were to have
one sacred and chief City in a fit and conve-
nient Place, and therein one single Temple and
one Altai – built of Stones, not hewn by Men’ s
Hands, but just such as they could find, pro-
vided they were white and clean; and there
was to be no Steps to ascend to this Temple;

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inasmuch as they were to be one People joyn-
ing in the Worship of one God, by whom
alone they were defended and preserved. Now
I cannot approve of either of these Particulars:
For as to the First, it must be extremely in-
convenient to the People, and especially to
those who frequent the Temples most, as the
old Folks and the Infirm; and the Second must
take very much from the Majesty of the Struc-
ture. As to what I have observed in some
sacred Edifices, built not long before our Time,
to which you ascend by a few Steps on the
Outside, and afterwards have as many to go
down again within, I will not absolutely call it
ridiculous; but why they should contrive it in
this Manner, I cannot imagine. Indeed I would
have the Plain of the Portico, and so of the
whole Temple, somewhat raised above the Le-
vel of the rest of the Town, which gives the
Fabrick a great Air of Dignity. But as in an
Animal, the Flead, the Feet, and every parti-
cular Member, should be exactly proportioned
to all the other Members, and to all the rest
of the Body; so in a Building, and especially
in a Temple, all the Parts should be made to
correspond so exactly, that let us consider which
of them we please, it may bear its just Propor-
tion to all the Rest. Thus I find that most
of the best ancient Architects used to take their
Elevation of the Plain of their Temple, from
the Breadth of the Temple itself, which they
divided into six Parts, giving one of those
Parts to the Fleight of the Plain or Mound of
the Structure. Others, in larger Temples, rais-
ed it only a seventh Part, and in the Biggest of
all, only a ninth. The Portico, by its Nature,
should have a continued Wall but of one Side,
and all the other Sides should be full of large
Apertures for Passage. Your Business there-
fore is to consider what Kind of Apertures you

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would make use of; for Colonades are of two
Sorts; one where the Columns stand wide and
at a great Distance from each other; and the
other, where they stand close and thick. And
neither of these Sorts is without its Inconveni-
encies; for in the wide Sort, the Apertures are
so large, that if you would make use of an
Architrave, it is apt to break in the Middle,
and if you would carry Arches over it, it is no
easy Matter to turn them upon the Heads of
the Columns. Where the Columns stand close
and thick, they intercept the View, the Light
and the Passage, and upon this Account, a
third Manner has been found out, in a Medium
between the other two, which is called Elegant,
and avoids the Defects of the others; is more
convenient and much more approved. And
with these three Sorts we might have been con-
tented; but the Diligence of Architects have
added two other Sorts, which I suppose may
be accounted for as follows: Not having a
sufficient Number of Columns for the Exten-
siveness of their Area, they deviated somewhat
from the laudable Medium, and imitated the
wider Apertures; and when they happen to
have Plenty of Columns, they were fond of
setting them closer together; whence arose five
Sorts of Intercolumniations, which we may call
by the Names of Wide, Close, Elegant, Less-
wide, Less-close. I further suppose it to have
happened, that the Architects being sometimes
destitute of long Stones, were obliged to make
their Columns shorter, knowing that this
would take much from the Beauty of the
Structure, they set a Plinth under their Columns,
in order to give them their just Height; for
they found by a careful View and Examinati-
on of other Buildings, that Columns had no
Grace in a Portico, unless a right Proportion
was observed both in their Height and Thick-

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ness. This induced them to lay down the fol-
lowing Rules for this Puipose. The Interco-
lumniation may be unequal; but the Columns
themselves must always be exactly equal. Let
the Apertures that answers to the Door be some-
what wider than the rest. Where the Inter-
columniation is close, make use of thinner Co-
lumns; where it is wide, make use of thicker;
thus always proportioning the Thickness of the
Colums to the Interspaces, and the Interspaces
to the Thickness of the Columns, which you
may do by the following Rules. In the closest
Sort of Colonades, let the Intercolumniation be
never narrower than one Diameter and a Half
of the Column; and in the widest, let it be
never broader than three Diameters and three
eighths. In the elegant Sort of Colonades you
may allow two Diameters and a Quarter, in the
Less-close, two; in the Less-wide, three. The
middle Interspace in the Colonade should be
somewhat wider than the rest, and the Ancients
direct us to give it an Addition of one fourth
Part: But by an Examination of old Buildings,

I find that this middle Interspace was not al-
ways made according to this Rule; for in the
wide Colonades, no good Architect ever made
it a fourth Part wider, but only about a
twelfth; and herein they acted very prudently,
lest an unfaithful Architrave should not be able
to bear even the Weight of its own Length,

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but crack in the Middle. Others indeed, in
other Colonades, have allowed a sixth Part;
but most have made it only a twelfth, especial-
ly in those Colonades which we have called
Elegant.

CHAP. VI.

Of Columns, and the different Sorts of Capitals.

When we have resolved upon our In-
tercolumniation, we are to erect our
Columns which are to support the Roof or
Covering. But we are to make a great Dif-
ference between a Work that consists of Pilas-
ters, and one that consists of Columns, and
between covering them with Arches, or with
Architraves. Arches and Pilasters are very
proper in Theatres, and Arches are not amiss
in Basiliques; but in the nobler Temples, we
never see any Porticoes without Architraves.

Of these Things we are now to Peat. The
Parts of the Column arc these: The lower
Plinth, upon that the Base, upon the Base the
Column, then the Capital, next to that the
Architrave, after which comes the Freeze,
where the Ends of the Rafters either terminate
or are concealed, and over all is the Cornice.

I think it will be proper to begin with the
Capitals, by which chiefly Columns are dis-
tinguished from one another. And here I en-
treat those who shall hereafter copy this Book,
that they would take the Pains to write the
Numbers which I set down, with Letters at
length, in this Manner, twelve, twenty, forty,
and not with numeral Characters, as XII. XX.
XL. Necessity first taught Men to set Capi-
tals upon their Columns, for the Heads of the
Timbers of their Architraves to meet and rest
upon; but this being at first nothing but a

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square Block of Wood, looked very mean and
unhandsome. Some Artists therefore among
the Dorians (if we may thus allow the Greeks
the Honour of all Inventions) were the first
that endeavoured to improve it by making it
round, so as to look like a Cup covered with
a square Tile; and because it seemed somewhat
too squat, they raised it higher by lengthening
the Neck. The Ionians, seeing the Inventi-
on of the Dorians, commended this Introduc-
tion of the Cup into the Capital; but they did
not like to see it so naked, nor with so long a
Neck, and theresore they added to it the Imi-
tation of the Bark of a Tree hanging down on
each Side, which by its Convolution inwards,
or Volute, embraced the Sides of the Cup.

Next came the Corinthians, among whom a
certain Artist, named Callimachus, disliking
the squat Cup, made use of a high Vase co-
vered with Leaves, in Imitation of one which
he had seen on the Tomb of a young Maiden,
all over-grown with the Leaves of an Acanthus,
which had sprung up quite round it, and which
he thought looked very beautiful. Thus three
Sorts of Capitals were now invented and re-
ceived into Practice by the best Workmen in
those Days: The Doric (though I am convinc-
ed that this was in use before among the anci-
ent Etrurians ) the Doric, I say, the Ionic and
the Corinthian. And what think you, was the
Occasion of that infinite Number of other Ca-
pitals which we see quite different the one from
the other, but the Diligence and Application
with which Men have been continually study-
ing to find out something new? But yet there
is none that deserves to be preferred before
those already mentioned, except one which,
that we may not own ourselves obliged to
Strangers for every thing, I call the Italian;
for this Order to the Richness of the Corin-

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1

thian, has added the Delicacy of the Ionic, and
instead of those Ears, has substituted Volutes,
which are extremely admired and commend-
ed. But to return to the Ordonnance of Co-
lumns; the ancient Architects have left us the
following Rules for their Proportions. They
tell us that the Doric Capital requires a Shaft
seven Times as long as its Diameter at Bottom;
the Ionic must have eight, and the Corinthian
ten of its own Diameters. The Bases of all
these Columns they made of the same Height;
but they made them of different Lineaments
and Designs: And indeed they differed as to
the Lineaments of almost every particular Part,
though they in a great Measure agreed as to
the Proportions of Columns in general, and
particularly as to those Lineaments of Co-
lumns, whereof we treated in the last Book, all
were of one accord, as well the Dorians and
Ionians, as the Corinthians. In this Point too

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1

they agreed, from an Imitation of Nature,
namely, that the Tops of the Shafts of all Co-
lumns ought to be thinner than they were at
Bottom. Some laid it down as a Rule, that
they should be a fourth Part thicker at Bottom
than at the Top. Others considering that
Things always seem to lose of their Bigness in
Proportion to the Distance from which they
are viewed, very prudently advise that such
Columns as were to be of a great Length,
should be made somewhat thicker at the Top
than those that were shorter; and for this Pur-
pose they gave the following Directions. The
Diameter of the Bottom of a Column of fifteen
Foot high, should be divided into six Parts,
whereof five should be given to the Diameter
at the Top. Of all Columns from fifteen to
twenty Foot high, the lower Diameter should
be divided into thirteen Parts, eleven whereof
are to be allowed to the Thickness at the Top;
all Columns from twenty to thirty Foot high,
must have seven Parts at the Bottom, and six
at the Top; those from thirty to forty Foot,
must have fifteen Parts Thickness below and
thirteen above: Lastly, those amounting to
fifty Foot height, must have eight Parts at the
Bottom, and seven at the Top. According to
the same Rule and Proportion, as the Column
grows still longer, the larger Diameter we must
allow to the Top of its Shaft: So that in these
Points all Columns agree. Not that I can
say, upon those Measurements which I have
taken of ancient Structures, that these Rules
were always strictly observed among the Ro-
mans.

CHAP. VII.

A necessary Rehearsal of the several Members of Columns, the Base, Torus,
Scotia, Lists, Die, and of the smaller Parts of those Members, the Plat-

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1

band , Corona, Ovolo, small Ogee, Cima—inversa, and Cymatium, both up-
right and reversed.

We shall here take a second Review of
the same Things relating to Columns,
which we considered in the last Book; not in-
deed in the same Method, but in another no
less useful. For this Puipose, out of those Co-
lumns which the Ancients made use of in their
publick Buildings, I shall take one of a middle
Proportion between the Biggest and the Least,
which I suppose to be of about thirty Foot.

The biggest Diameter of the Shaft of this Co-
lumn, I shall divide into nine equal Parts,
eight of which I shall assign to the biggest Di-
ameter of its Cincture at the Top: Thus its
Proportion will be as eight to nine, which the
Latins call a Sesquioctave. In the same Pro-
portion I shall make the Diameter of the Di-
minution at Bottom, to the largest Diameter
of the Shast, making the latter nine and the
sormer eight. Again I shall make the Dia-
meter of the Cincture at the Top to that of
the upper Diminution, as seven to eight, or in
the Proportion which the Latins call Sesqui-
septimal. I now proceed to the Description
of those Members wherein they differ. Bases
consist of these following; the Die, the Torus
and the Scotia. The Die is that square Mem-
ber which is at the Bottom of all, and I call it
by this Name, because it is square on every Side,
like a flat Die; the Torusses are those Cushi-
ons, upon one of which the Column rests, and
the other stands upon the Die; the Scotia is
that circular Hollow which lies between two
Torusses, like the Hollow in the Wheel of a
Pully. All the Measures of these Members are
taken from the Diameter of the Bottom of the
Shaft; and first the Dorians gave the following

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1

Proportions for them. They made the Height
of the Base to be half the Diameter of the Bot-
tom of the Shaft, and the Plinth or Die, as
broad at most every Way as one Diameter and
a Half of the Column, and as one Diameter
and a Third at least. They then divided the
Height of the whole Base into three Parts, one
of which they assigned to the Height of the
Die. Thus the Height of the whole Base was
three Times that of the Die, and the Breadth
of the Die was three times the Height of the
Base. Then exclusive of the Die they divided
the Rest of the Height of the Base into four
Parts, the uppermost of which they gave to the
upper Torus. Again, what remained between
the upper Torus and the Die at Bottom, they
divided into two Parts, one of which they al-
lowed to the lower Torus, and the other they

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1

  • PLATE 23. (Page 142)

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1

PLATE 24. ( Page 143)

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1

hollowed into a Scotia which lay between the
two Torusses. A Scotia consists of a hollow
Channel edged on each Side with an Annulet;
to each of those Annulets they allowed one
seventh Part of the Scotia, and the rest they
hollowed. We have formerly laid it down as a
Rule, that in all Building particular Care must
be taken that all the Work be set upon a per-
fect Solid. Now it would not be so, if a Per-
pendicular falling from the Edge of the upper
Stone were to meet with any void Space or Hol-
low. For this Reason in cutting their Scotias,
they took Care not to go in so far as to come
within the Perpendicular of the Work above.

The Torusses must project one Half and an
Eighth of their Thickness, and the extremest
Edge of the Circle of the biggest Torus must
be exactly Perpendicular to the Die. This was
the Method of the Dorians. The Ionians ap-
proved of the Doric Height, but they made
two Scotias, and placed two Fillets between

them. Thus their Base was the Height of
half the Diameter of the Bottom of the Shaft;
and this Height they divided into four Parts,
one of which they assigned to the Height of the
Plinth, giving eleven of those fourth Parts to its
Breadth: So that the whole Height of the Base
was as four, and the Breadth as eleven. Ha-
ving thus designed their Plinth, they divided
the rest of the Height into seven Parts, two of
which they gave to the Thickness of the lower
Torus, and what remained besides this Torus
and the Plinth, they divided into three Parts,
one of which they hollowed to the upper To-
rus, and the two middle Parts they gave to the
two Scotias with their two Fillets, which seem-
ed to be squeezed between the two Torusses.

The Proportions of these Scotias and Fillets
were as follows: They divided the Space be-

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1

tween the two Torusses into seven Parts, one
of which they gave to each Fillet, dividing the
rest equally between the two Scotias. As to
the Projecture of the Torusses they observed
the same Rules as the Dorians, and in hollow-
ing their Scotias had regard to the Perpendi-
cular Solid of the Stone that was to be laid
over them; but they made their Annulets on-
ly an eighth Part of the Scotia. Others were
of Opinion, that exclusive of the Plinth, the
Base ought to be divided into sixteen Parts,
which we call Minutes; and of these they gave
four to the lower Torus, and three to the upper,
three and a half to the lower Scotia, and three
and a half to the upper, and the other two
they assigned to the Fillets between them.
These were the Ionic Proportions. The Co-
rinthians liked both the Ionic and the Doric
Base too, and made use indifferently of them
both; so that indeed they added nothing to the
Column, but a Capital. We are told that the
Etrurians under their Columns (which we call
the Italian ) used to put not a square but a
round Plinth; but I never met with such a
Base among the Works of the Ancients. In-
deed I have taken Notice, that in Porticoes
which used to go clear round their circular
Temples, the Ancients carved one continued
Plinth quite round, which served for all the
Columns, and of the due Fleight which the
Plinth of the Base ought to be of. This I
doubt not they did, because they were con-
vinced that square Members did not suit with
a circular Structure. I have observed, that
some have made even the Sides of the Abacus
of their Capitals point to the Center of the
Temple, which, if it were to be done in the
Bases, might not be altogether amiss, though it
would scarce be much commended. And here
it may not be improper to say something of the

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1

several Members of the Ornaments made use
of in Architecture; and they are these; the
Plat-band, the Corona, the Ovolo, or Quarter-
round, the small Ovolo, or Ogee, the Cima-
inversa, and the Cymatium, or Doucine, both
upright and reversed. All these particular
Members have each a Projecture, but with
different Lines. The Plat-band projects in a
Square like the Letter L, and is indeed the
same as a List or Fillet, but somewhat broader.

The Corona has a much greater Projecture
than the Plat-band; the Ovolo, or Quarter-
round, I was almost tempted to call the Ivy,
because it runs along and cleaves to another
Member, and its Projecture is like a C placed
under the Letter L, thus <30> and the small Ovolo,
or Ogee is only somewhat less. But if you
place this Letter C reversed under the Letter L,
thus <31> it forms the Cima-inversa. Again, if
under the same Letter L you place an S in this
Manner <32> it is called the Cymatium, or Gola
from its Resemblance to a Man’ s Throat; but
if you place it inverted thus <33> it is called Cima-
inversa, or by some from the Similitude of its
Curve, the Onda, or Undula. Again, these
Members are either plain, or else have some
other Ornaments inserted into them. In the
Plat-band or Fascia it is common to carve
Cockle-shells, Birds, or Inscriptions. In the
Corona we frequently have Dentils, which are
made in the following Proportions: Their

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1

Breadth is one half of their Height, and the
Interspace between them is two thirds of their
Breadth. The Ovolo, or Quarter-round, is
sometimes adorned with Eggs and sometimes
with Leaves, and these Eggs are sometimes
carved entire, and sometimes sheared off at the
Top. The Ogee, or Baguette is make like a
Row of Beads, strung upon a Thread. The
Cymatiums are never carved with any thing
but Leaves. The Annulets are always left
plain on every Side. In the putting these
Members together, we must always keep to
this Rule, that the upper ones have always
more Projecture than those below them. The
Annulets are what separate one Member from
the other, and serve as a Kind of Cymaize to
each Member; the Cymaize being any List
that is at the Top of any Member whatsoever.

These Cymaizes, or Annulets being always
smooth and polished, are also of Use in distin-
guishing the rough carved Members from each
other, and their Breadth is a sixth Part of the
Member over which they are set, whether it be
the Corona or Ovolo; but in the Cymatium
their Breadth is one whole third.

  • CHAP. VIII.

Of the Doric, Ionic, Corinthian and Composite Capitals.

Let us now return to the Capitals. The

Dorians made their Capital of the same
Height as their Base, and divided that Height
into three Parts: The Lirst they gave to the
Abacus, the Second to the Ovolo which is un-
de rthe Abacus, and the Third they allowed to
the Gorgerin or Neck of the Capital which is

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1

under the Ovolo. The Breadth of the Abacus
every Way was equal to one whole Diameter,
and a twelfth of the Bottom of the Shaft. This
Abacus is divided into two Members, an up-
right Cymatium and a Plinth, and the Cyma-
tiurn is two fifth Parts of the whole Abacus.
The upper Edge of the Ovolo joyned close to
the Bottom of the Abacus. At the Bottom of
the Ovolo some made three little Annulets, and
others a Cymatium as an Ornament, but these
never took up above a third Part of the Ovolo.
The Diameter of the Neck of the Capital,
which was the lowest Part of it, never exceed-
ed the Thickness of the Top of the Shast,
which is to be observed in all Sorts of Capitals.
Others, according to the Observations which I
have made upon ancient Buildings, used to
make the Height of the Doric Capital three
Quarters of the Diameter of the Bottom of the
Shaft, and divided this whole Height of the
Capital into eleven Parts, of which they allow-
ed four to the Abacus, four to the Ovolo, and
three to the Neck of the Capital. Then they
divided the Abacus into two Parts, the up-
permost of which they gave to the Cymatium
and the lowermost to the Plinth. The Ovolo
also they divided into two Parts, assigning the
lowermost either to the Annulets or to a Cy-
matium, which served as an Edging to the
Ovolo, and in the Neck of the Capital some
cut Roses, and others Leaves with a high Pro-
jecture. This was the Practice of the Dorians.

Our Rules for the Ionic Capital are as follows.
Let the whole Height of the Capital be one
half the Diameter of the Bottom of the Co-
lumn. Let us divide this Height into nineteen
Parts, or Minutes, three of which we must give
to the Abacus, four to the Thickness of the
Volute, six to the Ovolo, and the other six be-

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1

low we must leave for the Turn of the Volutes
on each Side. The Breadth of the Abacus
every Way must be equal to the Diameter of
the Top of the Shafts; the Breadth of the Rind
which is to terminate in the Scroll must both
in the Front and Back of the Capital be equal
to the Abacus. This Rind must fall down on
each Side winding round like a Snail-shell.

The Center of the Volute on the right Side
must be distant from that on the Left two-
and-thirty Minutes, and from the highest
Point of the Abacus twelve Minutes. The
Method of turning this Volute is as follows:
About the Center of the Volute describe a lit-
tle Circle, the Semi-diameter of which must be
one of the afore-mentioned Minutes. This is
the Eye of the Volute. In the Circumference
of this little Circle make two Points opposite
to each other, one above and the other below.
Then fix one Foot of your Compasses into the
uppermost Point, and extend the other to the
Line that divides the Abacus from the Rind,
and turn it outwards from the Capital till you
have made a perfect Semi-circle ending Per-
pendicular under the lowest Point or Dot in
the Eye of the Volute. Then contract your

467

PLATE 25. ( Page 144 )

“( Altro ) Capitello Dorico” = ( another ) Doric capital “Diametro etc. ” = diameter of
the column below, “minu. ” = minutes.

1

PLATE 26. f Pages 144-45)

“II lato del Capitello” – the side of the capital. “Voluta” = volute. “Profilo” —
profile. “Pianta” = plan. “Capitello Ionico in prospeto” = Ionic capital in elevation.

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PLATE 27. ( Page 145)

“Capitello Corinthio” = Corinthian capital.

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1

PLATE 28. ( Page 145)

“Cctpitello Composito” = composite capital.

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1

Compasses, and fixing one Foot in the Point
below the Eye, let the other reach to the End
of the Line which you have already turned,
that is to say, to the End of your Semi-circle,
and turn it upwards till you touch the upper
Edge of the Ovolo. Thus with two unequal
Semi-circles, you will have made one entire
Compass about the Eye of your Volute. Then
go on with your Sweep in the same Manner,
till you have turned it quite to the Eye of the
Volute, or that little Circle in the Middle.

The Top of the Ovolo in the Front must have
a Projecture of two Minutes beyond the Rind,
and the lower Paid of it must be even with the
Top of the Shaft. The Sides of the Volutes
where the hindmost joins to the foremost on
each Side of the Capital, must be contracted to
the same Width as the Ovolo, with the Addi-
tion only of one half Minute. The Abacus
must be adorned with an upright Cymatium
of one Minute. The Back of the Volute must
be adorned with a little Channel half a Minute
deep, and the Annulets on the Side of this
Channel must be one Fourth of its Breadth,
and the Spaces on each Side the Channel must
be filled with Leaves or Fruits. That Part of
the Ovolo which appears forward in the Front
of the Capital must be carved with Eggs, and
under them with Berries. In the Void left on
each Side by the Sweep of the Volute, carve
Leaves or Scales. And thus much for the Ionic

Capital. The Corinthian Capital is in Height
one whole Diameter of the Bottom of the Shaft.
This Height must be divided into seven Parts
or Minutes, of which the Abacus must be al-
lowed one. The rest is entirely taken up by
the Bell or Vase, the Breadth of which at the
Bottom must be exactly equal to that of the
Top of the Shaft, without any of its Projec-

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1

tures, and the Breadth of the Top of the Vase
must be equal to the largest Diameter of the
Bottom of the Shaft. The Length of the A-
bacus on every Side must be equal to ten of the
afore-mentioned Parts; but the Corners of it
must be cut away to the Breadth of one half
of those Parts. The Abacus of the other Ca-
pitals consists entirely of straight Lines, but
that of the Corinthian must go with a Sweep
inwards to the Thickness of the Bottom of the
Vase. The Thickness of the Abacus is divid-
ed into three Parts, the Uppermost of which
must be made exactly as we adorn the Top of
the Shaft, that is to say, with a Fillet and small
Baguette. The Vase must be covered with
two Rows of Leaves standing upright, each
Row consisting of eight Leaves. Each Row
must be in Fleight two of the afore-mentioned
Parts, and the remaining Parts must be given
to several little Shoots rising out of the Leaves
to the Top of the Vase. These Shoots are in
Number sixteen, of which four are tied in each
Front of the Capital, two on the lest Fland in
one Knot, and two on the right in another,
spreading away from each Knot in such a Man-
ner, that the Tops of the two outward ones
make a Sort of a Volute exactly under the
Florns of the Abacus. The two Middle ones
in each Front join together, winding also like
Volutes, and exactly over the Middle of them
is carved a beautiful Flower rising out of the
Vase, which must not exceed the Abacus in
Breadth. The Breadth of those Parts of the
Fips of the Vase which those Shoots do not
conceal from us, is only one of the afore-men-
tioned seventh Parts. The Feaves must be di-
vided into five Plumes, and never more than
into seven. The Tops of the Feaves must pro-
ject half a Minute. It looks handsome in the
Feaves of this Capital, and all other Carving

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of the same Nature, to have all the Lines cut
in deep and bold. This was the Capital of

the Corinthians. The Italians brought into
their Capital all the Ornaments that they found
in the others, and observed the same Method
in making the Vase, Abacus, Leaves, and the
Flower in the Abacus, as the Corinthians. But
instead of Shoots they made use of a Sort of
Volutes, under the four Floms of the Abacus,
projecting two whole Minutes. The Front of
the Capital, being otherwise naked, borrowed
its Ornaments from the Ionic; for instead of
Shoots it has Volutes, and the Lips of its Vase
are carved full of Eggs with Berries underneath
them, like an Ovolo. Besides the Capitals here
described, we up and down see a great many
other Sorts made up of the Members of these,
with either Additions or Diminutions: But I
do not find that they are much approved.

And thus much may suffice of Capitals, unless
it be necessary just to mention one Practice;
which is, that it is common over the Abacus
to lay a very thick square Piece of Stone, or
Plinth, which seems as it were to give the Ca-
pital Breadth, and to prevent its being oppress-
ed by the Architrave, and at the same Time is
of Use to keep the nicest and most delicate
Parts of the Work from being injured in laying
the Superstructure.

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CHAP. IX.

Of the En tablature, the Architrave, Triglyphs, Dentils, Mutules, Cavetto,
and Drip or Crona, as also ofFlutings and some other Ornaments belong-
ing to Columns.

Having fixed our Capitals, we upon
them raise our Architraves, upon the
Architrave the Freze, Cornice and other Mem-
bers of the Covering. In most of these Mem-
bers the Ionians and all others differ very much
from the Dorians; though in some Particulars
they agree. For Instance, it is a general Rule,
that the Thickness of the Bottom of the Ar-
chitrave should be never greater than the Solid
of the Top of the Shaft of the Column, nor
should the Breadth of the Top of the same
Architrave be greater than the Diameter of the
Bottom of the Shaft. The Cornice is that
Member which lies upon the Freze, and pro-
jects over it. In this too they observed the
Rule which we have already given, that the
Projecture of all Members that stood out from
the Naked of the Wall ought to be equal to
their Height. It was also usual with them to
make their Cornice lean forwards about a
twelfth Part of its Width, knowing that this
Member would seem to be falling backwards,
if it were set up at right Angles. I here again
entreat those who shall hereafter transcribe this
Book, and I do it in the most earnest Manner,
that they would write the Numbers which I
set down with Letters at Length, and not with
numeral Characters, for the avoiding of more

numerous Errors. The Dorians then never

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1

made the Height of their Architrave less than
half the Diameter of the Bottom of their Co-
lumn, and this Architrave they divided into
three Fascias, under the uppermost of which
ran some short Mouldings, in each whereof
stuck six Nails, which were fixed in those
Mouldings with their Heads downwards, and
might at first be intended to keep the Freze
from retiring backward. The whole Height
of this Architrave they divided into twelve
Parts or Minutes, by which we shall measure
all the following Members. Four of these
Minutes they gave to the lower Fascia, six to
the Middle one which is above it, and the other
two they left for the upper Fascia; and of the
six Minutes given to the middle Fascia, one
was allowed to the Reglet or Moulding under
the Taenia, and another to the Nails which
stuck in that Moulding. The Length of these
Reglets was twelves Minutes, and the Spaces
from one Reglet to the other were eighteen.
Over the Architrave for an Ornament they set
the Triglyphs, the Front of which, being raised
High and Perpendicular, projected over the
Architrave half a Minute. The Breadth of
the Triglyphs must be equal to the Thickness
of the Architrave, and their Height or Length
half as much more, so that this will be eight-
teen Minutes. Lengthways in the Face of these
Triglyphs we cut three Furrows at equal Dis-
tance from each other, and hollowed at right
Angles, allowing the Breadth of the opening
one Minute. The Corners of these Furrows or
Channels must be cut away to the Breadth of
half a Minute. The Spaces or Metopes be-
tween the Triglyphs, where the Proportions are
elegant, are flat Tables exactly square, and the
Triglyphs themselves must be set perpendicu-
larly over the Solid of their Columns. The
Face of the Triglyphs project half a Minute out

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1

from the Metopes; but the Perpendicular of
the Metopes must fall exactly upon the lower
Fascia of the Architrave. In these Metopes it
is usual to carve the Skulls of Oxen, Pateras,
Wheels, and the like. Over each of these
Triglyphs and Metopes, instead of a Cymati-
um, must run a Fillet of the Breadth of two
Minutes, over these a Cima-inversa of the
Breadth of two Minutes, and above that a Plat-
band of the Breadth of three Minutes, which is
adorned with little Eggs, in Imitation, perhaps,
of the small Stones which sometimes burst out
between the Joints of a Pavement through the
too great Abundance of Mortar. In these we
fix the Mutules of the same Breadth as the
Triglyphs, and of the same Fleight as the Plat-
band, placed directly over the Pleads of the
Triglyphs and projecting twelve Minutes. The
Pleads of the Mutules are cut Perpendicular,
with a Cymaise over them. Over the Mutules
runs a small Cima of three Quarters of a Mi-
nute. In the Plat-fond of the Entablature be-
tween the Mutules we carve a Rose or a Flower

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1

  • PLATE 29. ( Page 146)

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1

PLATE 30. f Page 147 )

479

1

of the Branca Ursina. Upon the Mutules lies
the Corona, which is allowed four Minutes,
and this Corona consists of a Plat-band or Drip
and a Cima Recta, which last takes up one
Minute and a Half. If you are to have a Pe-
diment over your Building, all the Members of
the Cornice must be transferred to that, and
every Member in the Pediment must correspond
with the same in the Cornice, and answer to
the same Perpendiculars and Proportions. There
is only this Difference between Pediments and
the first Cornices, that in Pediments the high-
est Member of the Cornice is always the Drip,
which in the Doric Order is a Cima-reversa,
four Minutes in Height, whereas this Drip or
Cima has never Place in a Cornice that is to
have a Pediment over it; but in those which
are to have no Pediment it is constantly used.
But of Pediments we shall speak by and by.

This was the Entablature of the Dorians. The

Ionians were of Opinion, and not without Rea-
son, that the Proportion of the Architrave
ought to encrease according to the Bigness of
the Column; which must certainly have a good
Effect both here and in the Doric Order too.

The Rules they gave for enlarging this Pro-
portion were as follows: When the Column
was twenty Foot high the Architrave ought to
be the thirteenth Part of that Length; but
when the Column was to be five-and-twenty
Foot, the Architrave should be the twelfth
Part of the Length of the Column. Lastly,
if the Column was to be thirty Foot high, the
Architrave was to be the eleventh Part, and for
higher Columns in the same Gradation. The
Ionic Architrave, besides its Cymaise, consisted
of three Fascias, and the Whole was divided
into nine Parts, two of which were allowed to
the Cymaise, which was an upright one. The

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Remainder below the Cymaise they divided in-
to twelve Parts, three of which went to the
lower, four to the middle, and five to the up-
per Fascia, which lies just below the Cymaise.
Some made these Fascias without any Sort of
Mouldings between them, but others made
them with Mouldings, and these were some-
times a small Cima-inversa, taking up a fifth
Part of the Fascia, and sometimes a Baguette
taking up a seventh Part. We may observe in
the Works of the Ancients, that the Linea-
ments or Members of the several Orders were
often mixed, one borrowing from another, and
often with a very good Effect. But they seem-
ed chiefly pleased with an Architrave of only
two Fascias, which I take to be entirely Doric
without its Reglets and Drops. Their Man-
ner of designing this Architrave was thus. They
divided the whole Fleight into nine Parts, as-
signing one Part and two Thirds to the Cy-
maise. The upper Fascia had four Parts and
one Third, and the lower Fascia the other three.
Flalf the upper Part of this Cymaise was taken
up with a Cima-inversa and a Fillet, and the
other half with a small Quarter-round. The
upper Fascia for its Cymaise had a Baguette,
which took up an eighth Part of the Fascia,
and the lower Fascia had a Cima-recta of the
third Par t of its whole Breadth. Upon the
Architrave lay the Rafters; but their Pleads
did not appear out, as in the Doric Order, but
were cut away Perpendicular – to the Archi-
trave, and were covered with a flat Pannel
which I call the Freze, the Breadth of which
was the same as the Fleight of the Architrave
which is under it. Upon this they used to
carve Vases and other Utensils belonging to
their Sacrifices, or Skulls of Oxen at certain
stated Distances, with Festoons of Flowers and
Fruits hanging between their Florns. This

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Freze had over it a Cima-recta, which was
never higher than sour Parts of the Freze, nor
lower than three. Over this ran the Denticle,
four Parts high, sometimes carved and some-
times left quite plain. Above this was the
Ovolo, out of which came the Mutules, three
Parts in Fleight, and carved with Eggs, and
from hence came the Mutules supporting the
Drip, which was four Parts high and six Parts
and a half Broad in its Soffit, or that Face un-
derneath which lay over the Mutules. Over
this Drip was a small Cima-recta, or else a Ba-
guette two Parts in Fleight, and at the Top of
all was a Cymaise or Cima-inversa of three
Parts, or if you please of four. In this Cy-
maise both the Ionians and the Dorians used to
carve the Mouths of Lyons, which served for
Spouts to throw out the Water; but they took
Care that they should neither sprinkle any Body
that was going into the Temple, nor beat back
into any Part of the Temple itself; and for this
Reason they stopt up those Mouths that were

over the Doors and Windows. The Corinthi-
ans added nothing either to the Architrave,
Freze or Cornice, that I can call to Mind, ex-
cept only that they did not make their Mutu-
les square like the Dorians, but with a Sort of
Sweep like a Cymaise, and made the Distances
between them equal to their Projecture from
the Naked of the Building. In all other Re-
spects they followed the Ionians. Thus much

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1

may suffice for those Colonades which are to
be covered with Architraves; of those which arc
to support Arches we shall speak by and by,
when we come to treat of the Basilique. There
are only some few Particulars more relating to
Colonades of this Sort, which ought by no
Means to be omitted. It is certain that a Co-
lumn which stands in the open Air, always
seems smaller than one that is under Cover, and
the more Flutings there are in its Shaft, the
Thicker it will appeal’. For this Reason we
are advised either to make those fluted Co-
lumns that stand in the open Air somewhat
thicker, or else to encrease the Number of the

Channels. These Channels are made either
direct along the Shaft, or else run spiral about
it. The Dorians made them direct along the
Shaft. These Channels are called by Archi-
tects Stria:, and among the Dorians they were
in Number Twenty. Others made Twenty-
four. Others separated these Channels by small
Lists, which were never more than a third, nor
less than a fourth Part of the Groove of the
Fluting, and these Flutings were a semi-circu-
lar Concave. In the Doric Order the Flut-
ings are plain without any List, with very little
hollow, or at most but the Quarter of a Circle,
terminating the Channels in an Angle. For
the lower third Part of the Shaft of the Co-
lumn, they generally filled their Flutings with
a Cable, to make the Column stronger, and
less liable to Injuries. Those Flutings which
run direct along the Shaft, make the Column
appeal’ to the Eye of the Beholder thicker than
it really is. Those Channels that run spiral
about the Shaft, vary it too; but the less they
swerve from the Perpendicular of the Column,
the Thicker the Column will appeal’. They
must round clear round the Column never

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1

more than three Times, nor ever make less than
one compleat Revolution. Whatever Flutings
you make, they must always run from the Bot-
tom to the Top of the Shaft in even and con-
tinued Lines, with an equal FIollow all the
Way. The Sides of the Builder’ s Square will
serve us as a Guide for making our Channels.
There is a mathematical Line, which being
drawn from any certain Point of the Circum-
ference of a Semi-circle to the End of its Dia-
meter is called a right Angle, which is the same
as the Builder’ s Square. Flaving then marked
out the Sides of your Flutings, sink them so
deep in the Middle, that the Angle of your
Square may touch the Bottom and its two Sides
of the Lips of them at the same Time. At
each End of the Shaft of a fluted Column, you
must leave a proper Distance plain between the
Channels and the Cincture at one End, and
the Astragal at the other. We arc told, that
all round the Temple of Memphis , instead of
Columns, they made use of Colossal Statues
eighteen Foot high. In other Places they had
wreathed Columns twisted round with Ten-
drils and Vine-leaves carved in Relief, and
with the Figures of little Birds here and there
interspersed. But the plain Column is much
more agreeable to the Majesty of a Temple.
There are certain Dimentions which are great
Flelps to the Workmen in the placing of their
Columns, and these are taken from the Num-
ber of the Columns themselves that are to be

used in the Structure. Thus, for Instance, to
begin with the Dorians ; when they had four
Columns for the Front of their Building, they
divided the Front of the Platform into seven-
and-twenty Parts. If they had six Columns,
they divided it into one-and-forty, and if eight
into six-and-fifty, and of these Parts they al-

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1

lowed two for the Thickness of each Column.

But in Ionic Structures where four Columns are
to be used, the Front of the Platform must be
divided into eleven Parts and a half; where
these are to be six, into eighteen, and where
eight, into four-and-twenty and a half; whereof
only one Paid must be given to the Thickness
of each Column.

CHAP. X.

Of the Pavemen t of the Temple and its inner Area, of the Place for the Al-
tar, and of the Walls and their Ornamen ts.

It is the most approved Taste to ascend to
the Floor of the Temple and to the inner
Area by some Number of Steps, and to have
the Place where the Altar is to be fixed, raised
higher than the Rest. The Apertures and En-
trance to the Chapels on the Sides were some-
times left quite open without any Inclosure
whatsoever, and sometimes shut in with two

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PLATE 31. ( Pages 147-48)

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PLATE 32. ( Page 148)

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PLATE 33. ( Page 148)

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1

PLATE 34. f Page 148)

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1

Columns, over which ran an Architrave, Freze
and Cornice, according to the Rules just now
laid down for Porticoes; and the rest of the
Void above the Cornice was left quite open
for setting of Statues or large Candlesticks.
Others inclosed the Entrance into such Chapels
with a Walls brought half Way on each Side.
Those who imagine that the great Thickness
of the Walls adds Dignity to a Temple, are
greatly mistaken; for who is there that does
not dislike a Body composed of gouty Limbs?
besides that when the Walls are too thick, they
always intercept the Light. In the Rotonda at
Rome , the excellent Architect who had the
Care of that great Work having in it Occasion
for thick Walls, built the Ribs entirely of solid
Work, without any Stuffing, and those Inter-
spaces which a less skilful Artist would have
stuffed, he employed in Niches and other A-
pertures, whereby he saved Expence, and made
the Structure less heavy, and more beautiful.
The Thickness of the Walls must be proporti-
oned after the Manner of Columns; that is to
say, their Thickness must correspond to their
Height, as in those. I have observed that the
Ancients, in building their Temples, used to
divide the Lront of their Platform into twelve
Parts; or, when they would make them parti-
cularly strong, into nine, and one of those
Parts was the Thickness of the Wall. In cir-
cular Temples the Wall was never less high
than half the Diameter of its inner Area;
many made it two Thirds of that Diameter,
and some three Lourths, which was the Height
to which they carried the Wall before they be-
gan the Sweep of the Cupola. But the more
discreet Workmen divided the Circumference
of this circular Platform into four Parts; and
one of those fourth Parts being extended to a
Line was equal to the inward Height of the

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1

Wall, which is as four to eleven: And this
Practice has been also imitated in square Tem-
ples as well as round ones, and in many other
Kinds of Structures that were to be covered
with Arches. But where there were to be
Chapels on each Side in the Wall, to make the
Aperture seem the Larger they sometimes raised
their Wall equal in Height to the whole Breadth
of the Area. In round Temples the inward
Height of the Wall will not be the same as the
outward: Because within the Wall ends exact-
ly where the Sweep of the Arch begins; but
without, it is carried up straight to the Top of
the Cornice. If the Cupola have a Cover on
the Outside made with Degrees like Steps, the
outward Wall will take up a third Paid of it;
but if the Cover be made with straight Lines
and a common Slope, then the outward Wall
will take up half. Nothing is more conveni-
ent for building the Walls of a Temple, than
Brick; but then it must be cased with some-
thing handsomer. There have been many dif-
ferent Opinions with Relation to the Adorning
of the Walls of Temples. At Cyzicus a Town
in Bythinia there was a Temple which had its
Walls adorned with a very beautiful Stone, and all
the Joints pointed with massy Gold. In the Tem-
ple of Minerva at Elis , the Brother of Phidias ,
the celebrated Carver, made an Incrustation of
Stuc tempered with Saffron and Milk. The
Kings of a Egypt encompassed the Monument
of Simandes , which was the Sepulchre for the
Concubines of Jupiter , with a Circle of Gold
no less than a Cubit or Foot and half broad,
and three hundred sixty-five Cubits round,
with a Day of the Year inscribed upon every
Cubit. Others condemned this Excess of Or-
nament in Temples. Cicero , being guided by
Plato ‘ s Opinion, thought it necessary that the
People should be admonished by the Laws to

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1

lay aside all Manner of Delicacy in the Adorn-
ing their Temples, and take Care only to have
them perfectly clean and white. However,
says he, let the Structure of them be beautiful.

I confess, for my own Part, I am very ready to
believe, that Purity and Simplicity of Colour,
as of Life, must be most pleasing to the Divine
Being; and that it is not proper to have any
Thing in a Church that may be likely to draw
off Men’ s Thoughts from Devotion and fix
them upon the Pleasure and Delight of the
Senses: But still I am of Opinion, that he is
highly to be commended, who, as in other
publick Structures, so also in Temples, without
departing from the Gravity requisite in such
Works, endeavours to have all the Parts, the
Walls, Roof, and Pavement, as handsome and
elegant as possible, still chiefly having it in his
Eye to make all his Ornaments the most dura-
ble that may be. Thus nothing can be more
proper for the Ornament of the Roof on the
Inside than all Sorts of Mosaic Work made of
Marble, Glass, and other lasting Materials.
Stuc-work with Figures, according to the Prac-
tice of the Ancients, may be a very handsome
Coat for the Outside. In both you must take
the greatest Care to chuse proper Places as
well for your Pictures as Figures. The Por-
tico, for Instance, is the fittest Place for the
Representation of great Actions in Pictures.

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1

Indeed, within the Temple I think detached
Pictures do much better than painting upon
the Wall itself, and in my Mind Statues are
handsomer than Pictures, unless they be such
excellent ones as those two, for which Ccesar
the Dictator gave ninety Talents, or fourteen
hundred of our Crowns, in order to adorn the
Temple of Venus his Progenitor; and I look
upon a Picture with no less Pleasure (I mean a
good one, for ill Painting is a Disgrace to the
Wall) than I read a good History. They both
indeed are Pictures, only the Historian paints
with Words, and the Painter with his Pencil.

All other Qualifications are common to them
both, and they both require the greatest Genius
and Application. But I would have nothing
either on the Wall or Pavement of the Tem-
ple but what savours entirely of Philosophy. We
read that in the Capitol there were Tables of
Brass whereon were inscribed the Laws by
which the Empire was to be governed; which,
when the Temple was destroyed by Fire, were
restored by the Emperor Vespasian , to the
Number of three Thousand. We are told that
at the Entrance of the Temple of Apollo at De-
los , there were Verses engraved, containing se-
veral Compositions of Herbs proper to be used
as Remedies against all Sorts of Poison. Thus
I should think it would be proper among us,
by Way of Inscription, to have such Precepts
as may make us more just, more modest, more
useful, more adorned with all Virtues, and
more acceptable in the Sight of God; such as
these. Be what you would be thought; Love if
you would be beloved , and the like. And I would
have the Composition of the Lines of the
Pavement full of musical and geometrical Pro-
portions; to the Intent that which-soever Way
we may turn our Eyes, we may be sure to find
Employment for our Minds. One Method

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1

which the Ancients took to adorn their Tem-
ples, was to fill them with Things that were
uncommon and excellent; as in the Temple of
Hercules , where were to be seen some Horns
of Emmets brought from India ; or like those
Crowns made of Cinnamon which Vespasian
gave to the Capitol; or like that great Root of
Cinnamon which Augusta placed in the prin-
cipal Temple of Mount Palatine , in a Cup of
Gold. At Themius , a Town in Astolia plun-
dered by Philip , we are told, that in the Por-
ticoes of the Temple there were above fifteen
thousand Suits of Armour, and to adorn the
Temple itself above two thousand Statues; all
which, according to Polybius ‘ s Relation, were
destroyed and broken by Philip , except those
which were inscribed with the Name, or bore
the Representation of some God; and perhaps
Variety is more to be consulted in such Collec-
tions than Number. Solinus informs us, that
in Sicily there were some Artificers who had
the Secret of making Statues of Salt; and Pliny
tells us, that there was one made of Glass.

There is no Question but such Things must be
exceeding rare, and very worthy to raise our
Admiration of the Work both of Nature and
Art. But of Statues we shall speak in another
Place. The Walls and Apertures must be
adorned with Columns; but not like a Porti-
co. There is one Thing which I have observ-
ed in the Covering of some of the biggest
Temples, which is, that not having Columns
of Height sufficient to reach to the Spring of
their Arches, they heightened the Sides of the
Arches themselves in such a Manner that their
Sagitta was a third Part longer than their Se-
mi-diameter, which added not a little to the
Clearness and Beauty of the Work itself. And
here I must not omit one Precept, namely, that
the Spring of the Arch should have at least so

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much Perpendicular, as to prevent the Projec-
ture of the Cornices from taking away any Part
of the Arch from the Sight of those that staid
below in the Middle of the Temple.

CHAP. XI.

Why the Roofs of Temples ought to be arched.

I am entirely for having the Roofs of Tem-
ples arched, as well because it gives them
the greater Dignity, as because it makes them
more durable. And indeed I know not how
it happens that we shall hardly meet any one
Temple whatsoever that has not fallen into the
Calamity of Fire. We read that Cambyses burnt
all the Temples in TEgypt in general, and re-
moved the Treasure and Ornaments belonging
to them to Persepolis. Eusebius relates, that the
Oracle of Delphos was burnt three Times by
the Thracians , and another Time it took Fire
of itself, and was rebuilt by Amasis , as we are
informed by Herodotus. We read too that it

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was once burnt by Phlegyas, about the Time
that PhSnice invented some Characters for the
Use of his Citizens. It was also consumed by
Fire in the Reign of Cyrus, a few Years before
the Death of Servius Tallus, the King of Rome;
and it is certain, that it was again burnt about
the Time of the Birth of those three great Lu-
minaries of Learning. Catullus, Sallus and Var-
ro. The Temple of Ephesus was burnt by the
Amazons, in the Reign of Sylvius Posthumus,
as it was also about the Time that Socrates
was condemned to drink Poison at Athens:
and the Temple of the Argives was destroyed
by Fire the same Year that Plato was born at
Athens, at which Time Tarquin reigned at Rome.
Why should I mention the sacred Porticoes of
Jerusalem? Or the Temple of Minerva at
Miletus? Or that of Serapis at Alexandria?

Or at Rome, the Pantheon? And the Temple
of the Goddess Vesta? And that of Apollo?

In which last we are told the Sibyls Verses
were destroyed. We indeed find, that scarce
any Temple escaped the same Calamity. Dio-
dorus writes, that there was none besides that
dedicated to Venus, in the City of Eryx in Si-
cily, that had escaped to his Time unhurt by
the Flames. Ccesar owned that Alexandria
escaped being burnt, when he himself took it,
because its Roofs were vaulted. Nor are vault-
ed Roofs destituted of their Ornaments. The
Ancients transferred all the same Ornaments to
their Cupolas, as the Goldsmiths used about
the Pateras or Cups for the Sacrifices; and the
same Sort of Work as was used in the Quilts
of their Beds, they imitated in their vaulted
Roofs, whether plain or camerated. Thus we
see them divided into four, eight, or more Pan-
nels, or crossed different Ways with equal
Angles and with Circles, in the most beautiful
Manner that can be imagined. And here it

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may be proper to observe, that the Ornaments
of vaulted Roofs, which consist in the Forms
of their Pannels or Excavations, are in many
Places exceeding handsome, and particularly
at the Rotonda at Rome; yet we have no where
any Instruction left us in Writing how to make
them. My Method of doing it, which is very
easy and cheap, is as follows: I describe the
Lineaments of the future Pannels or Excavati-
ons upon the Boards of the Scaffolding itself,
whether they are to be Quadrangular, Sexan-
gular, or Octangular. Then those Parts which
I intended to excavate in my Roof, I raise to
the stated Fieight with unbaked Bricks set in
Clay instead of Mortar. Upon this Kind of
Mount thus raised on the Back of the Scaffold-
ing, I build my vaulted Roof of Brick and Mor-
tar, taking great Care that the thinner Parts
cohere firmly with the Thicker and Stronger.
When the Vault is compleated and settled and
the Scaffolding is taken away from under it, I
clear the solid Building from those Mounts of
Clay which I had raised at first; and thus the
Shape of my Evcavations or Pannels are formed
according to my original Design. But to re-
turn to our Subject. I am extremely delighted
with an Ornament mentioned by Varro, who
tells us of a Roof on which was painted a Sky
with a moving Star in it, which by a Kind of
Fiand shewed at once the Hour of the Day and
what Wind blew abroad. I should be wonder-
fully pleased with such a Contrivance. The
Ancients were of Opinion that raising the Roof
high and ending it with a Pedient gave such an
Air of Greatness to a Building, that they used
to say the House of Jove himself, though they
never supposed it rained in Heaven, could
not look handsome without it. The Rule for
these Pediments is as follows. Take not more
than the Fourth nor less than the Fifth of the

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1

Breadth of your Front along the Cornice, and
let this be the Summit or upper Angle of your
Pediment. Upon this Summit, as also at each
End, you set Acroteria, or little Pedestals for
Statues. The Height of the Acroteria or Pe-
destals at the Ends should be equal to that of
the Freze and Cornice; but that which stands
on the Summit, should be an eighth Paid higher
than the others. We are told that Buccides
was the first that adorned his Pediments with
Statues, which he made of Earth coloured red;
but afterwards they came to be made of Mar-
ble, and the whole Covering too.

CHAP. XII.

Of the Apertures proper to Temples, namely, the Windows, Doors, and Valves;
together with their Members, Proportions and Ornaments.

The Windows in the Temple ought to
be small and high, so that nothing but
the Sky may be seen through them; to the
Intent that both the Priests that are employed
in the Performance of divine Offices, and those
that assist upon Account of Devotion, may

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1

not have their Minds any Ways diverted by fo-
reign Objects. That Honor with which a
solemn Gloom is apt to sill the Mind naturally
raises our Veneration, and there is always some-
what of an Austerity in Majesty: Besides that
those Lights which should be always burning
in Temples, and than which nothing is more
awful for the Honour and Ornament of Re-
ligion, look faint and languish, unless favoured
by some Obscurity. For this Reason the Ancients
were very often contented without any other
Aperture besides the Gate. For my own Part,

I am for having the Entrance into the Temple
thoroughly well lighted, and those Parts with-
in, where People are to walk, not melan-
choly; but the Place where the Altar is to be
seated, I think should have more of Majesty
than Beauty. But to return to the Apertures
themselves. Let us here remember what has
formerly been said, namely, that Apertures
consist of three Parts, the Void, the Jambs
and the Lintel, which two last we may call
the Lrame of the Door or Window. The An-
cients never used to make either Doors or Win-
dows otherwise than square. We shall treat
first of Doors. All the best Architects, whe-
ther Dorians, Ionians or Corinthians, always
made their Doors narrower at the Top than
at the Bottom by one fourteenth Part. To
the Lintel they gave the same Thickness as
they found at the Top of the Jamb, making
the Lines of their Ornaments answer exactly
to one another, and meet together in just
Angles: And they raised the Cornice over the
Door equal in Height to the Capital of the
Columns in the Portico. Thus far they all
agreed, but in other Particulars they differed

very much. And first the Dorians divided this
whole Height, that is to say, from the Level of

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1

the Pavement up to the Roof, into sixteen
Parts, whereof they gave ten to the Height of
the Void, which the Ancients used to call the
Light; five to its Breadth, and one to the
Breadth of the Frame. This was the Doric

Division; but the Ionians divided the whole
Height to the Top of the Columns, as afore-
mentioned, into nineteen Parts, whereof they
gave twelve to the Height of the Light, six to
its Breadth, and one to the Frame. The Co-
rinthians divided it into one-and-twenty Parts,
assigning seven to the Breadth of the Light,
and doubling that Breadth for its Length, and
allowing for the Breadth of the Frame one
seventh Part of the Breadth of the Light. In
all these Doors the Frame was an Architrave.
And, unless I am much mistaken, the Ionians
made use of their own Architrave, adorned
with three Fascias, as did the Dorians too of
theirs, only leaving out the Reglets and
Drops; and all adorned their Lintels with
most of the Delicacies of their Cornice; only
the Dorians left out their Triglyphs, and in-
stead of them made use of a Freze as broad as
the Jamb or Frame of the Door. Over the
Freze they added an upright Cymatium; and
over that a plain Dentil, and next an Ovolo;
above that ran the Mutules with their Cymaise,
and over them an inverted Cymatium; ob-
serving in all these Members the same Pro-
portions as we have already set down for the
Doric Entablature. The Ionians , on the con-
trary, did not make use of a plain Freze, as
in their common Entablature; but instead of
it made a swelling Freze, one third Paid of
the Breadth of the Architrave, adorned with
Leaves bound about with a Kind of Swathes.
Over this they made their Cymase, Dentil,
Ovolo, Mutules, with their Cymaise, and above

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1

all the Drip and inverted Cymatium. Besides
this, at each End of the Entablature, on the
Outside of the Jamb, under the Drip, they
made a Sort of Ears, as we may call them,
from their Resemblance to the handsome Ears
of a fine Spaniel, by Architects called, Consoles.
These Consoles were turned like a great S.

The Ends winding round in this Manner, <29>,
and the Thickness of the Console at the Top
was equal to the Breadth of the swelling Freze,
and one fourth Part less at Bottom. The
Length reached down to the Top of the Void

or Light. The Corinthians applied to their
Doors all the Embellishments of a Collonade.
And to avoid further Repetitions, we adorn a
Door, especially when it is to stand under the
open Air with a Sort of little Portico, attached
against the Wall, in this Manner. Having made
the Frame of the Door, we place on each Side
an entire Column, or if you will only an half
Column, with their Bases at such a Distance
from each other, as to leave the Jambs, or
whole Antipagment clear. The Length of
the whole Columns with their Capitals, must
be equal to the Distance between the outward
Edge of the left Base to the outward Edge of
the Right. Over these Columns you make a
regular Architrave, Freze, Cornice and Pedi-
ment, according to all the same Proportions as
as we have above laid down for a Portico.

Some on each Side of the Door, instead of a
plain Jamb, made use of all the Ornaments of a

501

PLATE 35. (Page 152)

1

PLATE 36. ( Page 152)

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1

PLATE 37. ( Pages 152-53)

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1

Cornice, so allowing the Open a greater Width;
but this is a Delicacy much more suitable to
the House of a private Person, and especially
about Windows, than to the Door of a Tem-
ple. In very large Temples, and especially in
such as have no other Apertures but the Door,
the Height of the Open of that Door is divided
into three Parts, the uppermost of which is left
by Way of Window, and grated, the Remain-
der serves for the Door. The Door itself too,
or Valve, consists of different Members and
Proportions. Of these Members the Chief is
the Hinge, which is contrived after two Man-
ners; either by an iron Staple fixed in the
Door-case; or else by Pins coming out from
the Top and Bottom of the Door itself, upon
which it balances and turns, and so shuts and
opens. The Doors of Temples, which for the
Sake of Duration, are generally made of Brass,
and consequently must be very heavy, are bet-
ter trusted to Axles, in the later Manner, than
to hang upon any Staples. I shall not here
spend Time in giving an Account of those
Doors which we read of in Historians and Poets,
enriched with Gold, Ivory, and Statues, and
so heavy that they could never be opened with-
out a Multitude of Hands, and such a Noise as
terrisied the Hearers, I own Facility in open-
ing and shutting them is more to my Mind.
Under the Bottom therefore of the lower Pin
or Axle, make a Box of Brass mixed with Tin,
and in this Box sink a deep hollow Concave at
the Bottom; let the Bottom of the Axle have also
a Concavity in it, so that the Box and the Axle
may contain between them a round Ball of
Steel, perfectly smooth and well polished. The
upper Pin or Axle must also be let into a brass
Box made in the Lintel, and besides must turn
in a moveable iron Circle as smooth as it can
be made; and by this Means the Door will

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never make the least Resistance in turning, but
swing which Way you please with all the Ease
imaginable. Every Door should have two Val-
ves or Leaves, one opening to one Side, and the
other to the other. The Thickness of these
Leaves should be one twelfth Part of their
Breadth. Their Ornament are Pannels or
square Mouldings applied lengthways down the
Leaf, and you may have as many of them as
you will, either two or three, one above the
other, or only one. If you have two, they must
lie like the Steps of a Stair, one above the other,
and both must take up no more of the Breadth
of the Leaf than a fourth, nor less than a sixth
Part; and let the last, which lies above the
other, be one fifth Part broader than the un-
der one. If you have three of these Mould-
ings, observe the same Proportions in them as
in the Paces of the Ionic Architrave: But if
you have only one Moulding, let it be not
more than a fifth, nor less than a seventh Part
of the Breadth of the Leaf. These Mouldings
must all fall inward to the Leaf with a Cima-
recta. The Length of the Leaf should also be
divided by other Mouldings crossways, giving
the upper Pannel two fifth Parts of the whole
Height of the Door. In Temples the Win-
dows must be adorned in the same Manner as
the Doors; but their Apertures, being near the
highest Part of the Wall, and their Angles ter-
minating near the Vault of the Roof, they are
therefore made with an Arch, contrary to the
Practice in Doors. Their Breadth is twice their
Height; and this Breadth is divided by two
little Columns, placed according to the same
Rules as in a Portico; only that these Columns
are generally square. The Designs for Niches,
Statues or other Representations, are borrowed
from those of Doors; and their Height must
take up one third Part of their Wall. The

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Ancients in the Windows of their Temples,
instead of Panes of Glass, made use of thin
transparent Scantlings of Alabaster, to keep out
Wind and Weather; or else made a Grate of
Brass or Marble, and filled up the Interspaces
of this Grate not with brittle Glass, but with
a transparent Sort of Stone brought from Se-
govia, a Town in Spain, or from Boulogne in
Picardy. The Scantlings are seldom above a
Foot broad, and are of a bright transparent
Sort of Plaister or Talk, endued by Nature
with a particular Property, namely, that it
never decays.

CHAP. XIII.

Of the Altar, Communion, Lights, Candlesticks, Holy Vessels, and some other
noble Ornaments of Temples.

The next chief Point to be considered
in the Temple, is fixing the Altai – ,
where Divine Office is to be performed, which
should be in the most honourable Place, and
this seems to be exactly in the Middle of the
Tribune. The Ancients used to make their

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Altar six Foot high and twelve Broad; and on
it placed the Statue of their Deity. Whether
or no it be proper to have more Altars for Sa-
crifice in a Temple, than one, I shall leave to
the Judgment of others. Among our Fore-
fathers, in the primitive Times of our Religi-
on, the devout Christians used to meet toge-
ther at the Floly Supper, not to fill their Bodies
with Food, but in order to soften and huma-
nize their Manners by frequent Conversation
and Communion with each other; and having
filled their Minds with good Instructions, they
returned every Man to his own Home, warm-
ed and inflamed with the Love of Virtue. For
having rather tasted than eat the moderate
Portion that was set before them, they read
and reasoned upon all Sort of divine Subjects.
Every one burnt with Charity towards his
Neighbour, for their common Salvation, and
for the Divine Worship. Lastly, every Man,
according to his Power, paid a Kind of Tax
due to Piety, for the Maintenance of such as
truly deserved it, and the Bishop distributed
these Contributions among such as wanted.

Thus all Things were common among them,
as among loving Brethren. Afterwards when
Princes consented that these Duties should be per-
formed publickly, they did not indeed deviate
much from the Institution of their Forefathers;
but as greater Numbers came in than before,
the Supper was still more moderate. The Ser-
mons preached in those Times by the learned
Bishops, are still extant in the Writings of the
Fathers. Thus in those Ages they had but
one Altai – , where they used to meet to cele-
brate only one Sacrifice in a Day. Next suc-
ceeded these our Times, which I wish to God
some worthy Man might arise to reform, and
be this said without Offence to our Popes, who,
though to keep up their own Dignity, they

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hardly suffer themselves to be seen by the
People once in a Year, yet have so crowded
every Place with Altars, and perhaps too with

But I shall venture to say no more.

This I may venture to affirm, that as there is
nothing in Nature can be imagined more Holy
or Noble than our Sacrifice, so I believe no
Man of Sense can be for having it debased by
being made too common. There are other
Sorts of Ornaments also, not fixed, which
serve to adorn and grace the Sacrifice; and
others of the same Nature that embellish the
Temple itself, the Direction of which belongs
likewife to the Architect. It has been a Ques-
tion which is the most beautiful Sight: A large
Square full of Youth employed about their se-
veral Sports; or a Sea full of Ships; or a Field
with a victorious Army drawn out in it; or a
Senate-house full of venerable Magistrates; or
a Temple illuminated with a great Number of
chearful Lights? I would desire that the Lights
in a Temple should have somewhat of a Maje-
sty in them which is not to be found in the
blinking Tapers that we use now-a-days. They
might, indeed, have a good Effect enough if
they were set in Rows with any thing of a
pretty Regularity, or stuck all along the Edge
of the Cornice. But I am much better pleased
with the Ancients, who on the Top of their
Candlesticks fixed large Shells in which they
lighted an odoriferous Flame. They divided
the whole Length of the Candlesticks into se-
ven Parts, two of which they gave to the Base,
which was triangular, and longer than it was
broad , and broader at Botton than
at Top . The Shaft of the Candle-
stick was divided by several little Pans placed
one above the other, to catch the Drops that
fell from the upper Shell; and at the Top of
all was that Shell, full of Gums and odoriferous

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Woods. We have an Account how much
sweet Balm used to be burnt on every Holy-
day in the principal Churches by the Emperor’ s
Order in Rome, at the publick Charge; and it
was no less than five hundred and four score
Pounds Weight. And this may suffice as to
Lamps: Let us now just mention some other
Things, which are very noble Ornaments in
Temples. We read that Gyges gave to the
Temple of the Pythian Apollo, six great Cups
of massy Gold, which weighed thirty thousand
Pound Weight; and that at Delphos there
were Vessels of solid Gold and Silver, each of
which would contain six Amphoras, or about
four-and-fifty of our Gallons, among which
there were some that were more valued for the
Invention and Workmanship than for the Me-
tal. We are told that in the Temple of Juno
at Samos, there was a Vessel, carved all about
with Ligures in Steel, sent by the Spartans as
a Present to CrSsus, so large, that it would
hold three hundred Amphoras, or two thou-
sand seven hundred Gallons. We read too that
the Samians sent as a Present to Delphos an
iron Cauldron with the Heads of several Ani-
mals finely wrought upon it, and supported se-
veral kneeling colossal Statues ten Loot and a
half high. It was a wonderful Contrivance of
Sanniticus the Egyptian, in the Temple of the
God Apis, which was extremely rich in diffe-

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rent Columns and Statues, in making an Image
of that God which was continually turning
round to face the Sun. And there was some-
what yet more wonderful than this in the Tem-
ple of Diana at Ephesus; which was, Cupid’ s
Dart hanging upon nothing. For such kind
of Ornaments no other certain Rule can be
given, but that they be set in decent Places,
where they may be viewed with Wonder and
Reverence.

CHAP. XIV.

Of the first Original of Basiliques, their Porticoes and different Members, and
wherein they differ from Temples.

It is certain that at first Basiliques were no-
thing but Places where the Magistrates used
to meet to administer Justice under Shelter,
and the Tribunal was added to give the greater
Air of Majesty to the Structure. Afterwards
in order to enlarge them, the principal Roof
being found not sufficient, Porticoes were add-
ed on each Side, first a single, and in Time a
double one. Others across the Tribunal made
a Nave, which we shall call the Justiciary Nave,
as being the Place for the Concourse of the
Notaries, Sollicitors and Advocates, and joined
this Nave to the other Isles after the Manner of
the Letter T. The Porticoes without were
supposed to be added afterwards for the Con-
venience of Servants: So that the Basilique
consists of Naves or Isles, and of Porticoes: But
as the Basilique seems to partake of the Na-
ture of the Temple, it has claimed most of the
Ornaments belonging to the Temple, but still
in such a Manner as to seem rather to imitate
than to pretend to equal it in Embellishments.

It is raised above the Level of the Ground, like
the Temple, but an eighth Part less; that so

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it may yield to the Temple, as to the more
honourable Structure: And indeed none of its
other Ornaments must be allowed the same So-
lemnity as those used in a Temple. Moreover
there is this further Difference between the
Basilique and the Temple, that the Isles in the
former must be clear and open, and its Win-
dows persectly lightsome, upon account of the
sometimes tumultuous Crowd of Litigants, and
for the Conveniency of examining and sub-
scribing to Writings; and it would be very
proper, if it could be so contrived, that such as
came to seek either their Clients or their Pa-
ttons, might immediately find them out; For
which Reason the Columns ought to be set at
a greater Distance from each other; and there-
fore those that support Arches are the most
proper, though such as bear Architraves are
not to be wholly rejected. Thus we may de-
fine the Basilique to be a clear spacious Walk
covered with a Roof, with Porticoes or Isles on
the Inside; because that which is without Isles
seems to me to have more in it of the Court
of Justice or Senate-house, whereof we shall
speak in due Time, than of the Basilique. The
Platform of the Basilique should be twice as
long as broad; and the chief Isle, which is that
in the Middle, and the cross one, which we
have called the Justiciary, should be entirely

clear and free for Walkers. If it is to have on-
ly one single Isle on each Side, without the
Justiciary Nave, you may order your Propor-
tions as follows: Divide the Breadth of the
Platform into nine Parts, whereof five of them
must be allowed to the middle Isle, and two to
each Portico or side Isle. The Length too
must be divided into nine Parts, one of which
must be given to the Sweep of the Tribunal,
and two to the Breadth or Entrance into that

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Tribunal. But if besides the side Isle you
would have a Justiciary Nave, then divide the
Breadth of the Platform only into four Parts,
giving two to the middle Isle, and one to each
side Isle; and divide the Length as follows:

Give one twelfth Part of it to the Sweep of the
Tribunal, two twelfths and an half to the
Breadth of its Entrance, and let the Breadth of
the Justiciary Nave be the sixth Part of the

Length of the whole Platform. But if you are
to have not only the Justiciary Nave, but double
Isles besides; then divide the Breadth of the
Platform into ten Parts, giving four to the
middle Isle, and three on each Side to be di-
vided equally for the side Isles, and divide the
Length into twenty Parts, giving one and a
half to the Sweep of the Tribunal, and three
and one third to its Entrance, and allowing on-
ly three Parts to the Breadth of the Justiciary
Nave. The Walls of the Basilique need not
be so thick as those of the Temple; because

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they are not designed to support the Weight
of a vaulted Roof, but only a flat one of Sum-
mers and Rafters. Let their Thickness there-
fore be only one twentieth Paid of their Height,
and let their Height be only once the Breadth
of the Front and an Half, and never more. At
the Angles of the Isles come out Pilasters from
the Naked of the Wall, running parallel with,
and on a Line with, the Columns, not less than
twice, nor more than three Times the Thick-
ness of the Wall. Others, still more to strength-
en the Building, make such a Pilaster in the
Middle of the Row of Columns, in Breadth
three of the Diameters of one the Columns, or
at most four. The Columns themselves too
must never have the same Solidity as those
used in Temples; and therefore, if we make
our Colonades with an Architrave over it, we
may observe the following Rules. If the Co-
lumns are to be Corinthian, substract a twelfth
Part from their Diameter; if Ionic, a tenth;
if Doric, a ninth. As for the Composition of
the other Members, the Capitals, Architrave,

Freze, Cornice, and the like, you may proceed
in the same Manner as in Temples.

  • CHAP. XV.

Of Colonades both with Architraves and with Arches; what Sort of Columns
are to be used in Basiliques, and what Cornices, and where they are to be
placed; of the Height and Wedth of Windows and their Gratings; of the
Roofs and Doors of Basiliques, and their Ornaments.

Columns that are to have Arches over
them, ought by rights to be square; for
if they were round, the Work would not be
true, because the Heads of the Arches would
not lie plum upon the Solid of the Column

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underneath; but as much as their Squares ex-
ceeded a Circle, so much of them would hang
over the Void. To remedy this Defect, the
best ancient Masters placed over the Capitals
of their Columns another Abacus or Plinth, in
Thickness sometimes one fourth and sometimes
one fisth Part of the Diameter of the Column;
the upper Part of this Plinth, which went off
with a Cima-recta, was equal to the greatest
Breadth of the Top of the Capital, and its Pro-
jecture was equal to its Height, so that by this
means the Heads and Angles of the Arches had
a suller and firmer Seat. Colonades with
Arches, as well as those with Architraves, are
various, some being thinner set, others closer,
and so on. In the closer Sort the Height of
the Void must be three Times and an half the
Breadth of the Aperture; in the thin Set, the
Height must be once the Breadth and two
thirds; in the less thin, the Height must be
twice the Breadth; in the closest of all, the
Breadth must be one third of the Height. We
have formerly observed, that an Arch is no-
thing else but a Beam bent. We may there-
fore give the same Ornaments to Arches as to
Architraves, according to the different Sorts of
Columns over which they are turned; besides
which, if we would have our Structure very
rich, over the Heads of our Arches we may
run an Architrave, Freze, and Cornice in a
straight Line, with the same Proportions as we
should make them over Columns that should
reach to that Height. But as the Basilique is
sometimes encompassed only with one single
Isle, and at other Times with two, the Place of
the Cornice over the Columns and Arches must
vary accordingly. In those which are encom-
passed only with one single Portico, having di-
vided the Height of your Wall into nine Parts,
the Cornice must go only to five; or if you

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divide it into seven, to four. But in those
which arc to have double Isles, the Cornice
must be placed at one third of the Height of
the Wall at least, and at never more than three
eighths. We may also over the first Cornice,
as well for the greater Ornament as for real
Use, place other Columns, and especially Pi-
lasters, directly plum over the Centers of the
Columns which are below them. And this
indeed is of great Service, as it maintains the
Strength and Firmness of the Ribs of the Work,
and adds Majesty to it, and at the same Time
takes off much from the Weight and Expence
of the Wall; and over this upper Colonade
too we make a regular Entablature, according
to the Order of the Columns. In Basiliques
with double Side Isles, we may raise three Rows
of Columns in this Manner one above another;
but in others we should make but two. Where

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PLATE 38. ( Page 155)

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PLATE 41. ( Page 155)

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PLATE 42. ( Page 155-56)

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PLATE 43. ( Page 155-56)

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you have three Rows of Columns, divide the
Space that is between the first Row and the
Roof into two Parts, and in that Division end
the second Cornice. Between the first and se-
cond Cornices, let the Wall be preserved en-
tire, and adorn it with some beautiful Sorts of
Stuc-work; but in the Wall between the se-
cond and the third Cornices, you must make
your Windows for lighting the whole Structure.
The Windows in Basiliques must be set exactly
over the Intercolumnations, and answer regu-
larly to one another. The Breadth of these
Windows must not be less than three Fourths
of the Intercolumnation, and their Fleight
may very conveniently be twice their Breadth.
Their Flead-piece may be upon a Line with
the Top of the Columns, exclusive of the Ca-
pitals, if these Windows be made square; but
if they are round, their Arch may come al-
most even with the Architrave, and so lower
as you think fit to diminish the Arch; but
they must never rise above the Tops of the
Columns. At the Bottom of the Window
must be a Plat-band for a Rest or Leaning
Place, with a Cima-recta and an Ovolo. The
Open of the Window must be grated, tho’ not
paned with scantling Tale like those of the
Temple; but still they must have something
to keep out Wind and Weather. On the other
Fland, it is necessary to have a free Vent for
the Air, that the Dust which is raised by the
Peoples Feet may not injure their Eyes and
Lungs; and therefore I think nothing does
better here, than those fine Grates, either of
Brass or Lead, with an infinite Number of
small Floles disposed in a regular Order, al-
most like a Picture, which admit both Light
and Air to refresh the Spirits. The Roof or Ceil-
ing will be extreamly handsome, if it is compos-
ed of different Pannels nicely jointed together,

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with large Circles, in handsome Proportions,
mixed with other Compartments and Angles,
and if those Pannels are separated from each
other with flying Cornices, with all their due
Members, and with their Coffits adorned with
carved Work of Gems in Relief, intermixed
with beautiful Flowers, either of the Acanthus
or any other, the Pannels being enriched with
lively Colours, by the Hand of some ingeni-
ous Painter, which will add a singular Grace
to the whole Work. Pliny tells us of an ex-
traordinary Cement for laying Gold upon
Wood-work; which may be made as follows.
Mix together six Pounds of Sinoper. or Terra
Pontica, and ten Pounds of red Oker, mixed
with two Pounds of Terra Melina or White
Lead, which must be all ground together, and
the past kept full ten Days before it is used.
Mastic steept in Linseed Oil, and mixed with
Helbic Sinoper or Ruddle well burnt, makes
a Cement or Glue that will hardly ever come
off. The Height of the Door of the Basilique
must be answerable to that of the Isles. If
there be a Portico on the Outside, by Way of
Vestibule, it must be of the same Height and
Breadth as the Isle within. The Void Cham-
branle, and other Members of the Door must
be made after the same Rules at the Door of
the Temple; but in a Basilique the Leaf
should never be of the Brass. But you may
make it of Cypress, Cedar, or any other fine
Wood, and enrich it with Bosses of Brass, con-
hiving the Whole rather for Strength than
Delicacy: Or if you would have it beautiful
or noble, do not embelish it with any minute
Ornaments in Imitation of Painting, but adorn
it with some Relieve, not too high raised,
that may make the Work look handsome, and
not to be too liable to be injured. Some have
of late begun to build Basiliques circular. In

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these the Height in the Middle must be equal
to the Breadth of the whole Structure; but
the Porticoes, Colonades, Doors and Windows
must be in the same Proportions as in the
square Basilique. Of this Subject sufficient has
been said.

CHAP. XVI.

Of Monuments raised for preserving the Memory of publick Actions and
Events.

I come now to speak of Monuments erected
for preserving the Memory of great Events;
and here by Way of Relief I shall take the
Liberty to unbend myself a little from that In-
tenseness and Dryness which is necessary in
those Parts of this Work which turn altogether
upon Numbers and Proportions: However,

I shall take Care not to be too prolix. Our

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Ancestors, when, having overcome their Ene-
mies, they were endeavouring with all their
Power to enlarge the Confines of their Em-
pire, used to set up Statues and Terms to mark
the Course of their Victories, and to distinguish
the Limits of their Conquests. This was the
Origin of Pyramids, Obelisks, and the like
Monuments for the Distinction of Limits.
Afterwards being willing to make some Ac-
knowledgment to the Gods for the Victories
which they had gained, they dedicated Part of
their Plunder to Heaven, and consecrated the
publick Rejoycings to Religion. This gave
Rise to Altar’s, Chapels, and other Monuments
necessary for their Purposes. They were also
desirous of eternizing their Memory to Poste-
rity, and of making even their Persons, as well
as Virtues known to future Ages. This pro-
duced Trophies, Spoils, Statues, Inscriptions,
and the like Inventions for propagating the
Fame of great Exploits. People of lower Rank
too, tho’ not eminent for any particular Ser-
vice done their Country, but only for their
Wealth or Prosperity, were fond of imitating
the same Practice, in which many different
Methods have been taken. The Terms erected
by Bacchus , at the End of his Progress thro’
India, were Stones set up at certain Distances,
and great Trees with their Trunks encom-
passed with Ivy. At Lysimachia was a very
large Altar, which was set up by the Argo-
nauts, when they passed by that Place in their
Voyage. Pausanias, on the Banks of the Ri-
ver Hippanis, near the Black Sea, fixed a huge
Vase of Brass, six Inches thick, which would
contain six hundred * Amphoras. Alexander,
near – the River Alcestes, which falls into the
Ocean, erected twelve Altars of prodigious large
square Stones, and near – the Tanais surrounded
all the Space of Ground which his Army took

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up in its Encampment, with a Wall which
was seven Miles and an half in Compass.
Darius, having set down his Camp near Oth-
rysia, upon the River Artesroe, commanded
his Soldiers to throw each of them one Stone
in different Heaps, which being very hu ge
and numerous, might fill Posterity with As-
tonishment. Sesostris, in his Wars, erected an
Obelisk with handsome Inscriptions, in Ho-
nour of those who made a brave Resistance
against him; but those who submitted basely
he branded with Infamy, by setting up Obe-
lisks and Columns with the Pudenda of a Wo-
man carved upon them. Jason, in all the
Countries thro’ which he passed, erected
Temples in his own Honour, which we are
told were all demolished by Parmenio, to the
Intent, that no Memorial might any where
remain but that of Alexander. These were
Monuments erected during the Expeditions
themselves; others, such as follow, were raised
after the Victory obtained, and the Conquest
compleated. In the Temple of Pallas, the
Diligent hung the Shackles with which the
Lacedemonians had been fettered. The Evi-
ans not only preserved in their Temple the
Stone with which the Phymian King slew the
King of Machienses, but even worshiped it as
a God. The /Eginetce dedicated to their
Temple the Beaks of the Ships which they
took from their Enemies. In Imitation of
them Augustus, having overcome the, /Egyp-
tians, erected four Trophies of the Beaks of
their Ships; which were afterwards removed
to the Capitol by the Emperor Domitian, Ju-
lius Ccesar had before raised two of the same
Sort, one upon the Rostrum, and the other
before the Senate, upon defeating the Cartha-
ginians in a naval Engagement. Why need I
mention that infinite Number of Towers,

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Temples, Obelisks, Pyramids, Labyrinths, and
the like Works which we read of in Histori-
ans? I shall only observe, that this Desire of
perpetuating their Names by such Structures,
rose to such a Pitch among the Heroes of old,
that they even built Towns for no other Pur-
pose, calling them by their own Names to de-
liver them down to Posterity. Alexander, not
to mention many others, besides those Cities
which he built in Honour of his own Name,
went so far as to build one after the Name of his
Horse Bucephalus. But in my Opinion, what
Pompey did was much more decent; when having
defeated Mithridates in the lower Armenia, he
built the City Nicopolis (or of Victory) in the
very Place where he had been Conqueror. But
Seleucus seems to have far outstript all these;
sor he built three Cities in Honour of his
Wife, and called them Apamia; five in Ho-
nour of his Mother, by the Name of Laodicea;
nine called Seleucia, in Honour of his own
Name; and ten in Memory of his Father,
which were called Antiocha. Others have made
themselves famous to Posterity, not so much
by Magnificence and Expence, as by some par-
ticular’ new Invention. Ccesar, with the Berries
of the Laurel which he had worn in Triumph,
planted a Grove which he consecrated to fu-
ture Triumphers. Near Ascalon in Syria, was

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a famous Temple, in which ftood the Statue
of Dercetis (the same that is called in Scripture
Dagon ) with his upper Parts like a Man, and
his lower like a Fish; who was thus honoured,
because from that Place he threw himself into
the Lake: And if any Syrian tasted of the
Fish that was in it, he was looked upon as ex-
communicate. The Mutinii, or ancient Mo-
deneze, near the Lake Fucinus, represented
Medea the Serpent-killer, under the Shape of
a Serpent, because by her Means they fancied
themselves freed from those Animals. Of the
same Nature was Hercules’ s Lerncean Hydra,

Io changed into a Cow, and the other Fables
related in the Verses of the ancient Poets;
with which Inventions I am very much de-
lighted, provided some virtuous Precept
be contained in them; as in that Symbol
which was carved upon Symandes ‘ s Sepulchre,
in which was a Judge surrounded by some
other chief Magistrates cloathed in the Flabits
of Priests, and from their Necks hung down
upon their Breasts the Image of Truth with
her Eyes clos’ d, and seeming to nod her Flead
towards them. In the Middle was a Fleap of
Books, with this Inscription upon it: This is
the true Physick of the Mind.

BUT the Invention of Statues was the most
excellent of all, as they are a noble Ornament
for all Sorts of Structures, whether sacred or
profane, publick or private, and preserve a
wonderful Representation both of Persons and
Actions. Whatever great Genius it was that
invented Statues, it is thought they owe their
Beginning to the same Nation as the Religion
of the ancient Romans; the first Statue being
by some said to be made by the Etrurians.
Others are of Opinion, that the Telchines of
Rhodes, were the first that made Statues of the

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1

Gods, which being formed according to cer-
tain magical Rules, had Power to bring up
Clouds and Rain, and other Meteors, and to
change themselves into the Shapes of different
Animals. Among the Greeks, Cadmus, the
Son of Agenor, was the first that consecrated
Statues of the Gods to the Temple. We are
informed by Aristotle, that the first Statues that
were placed in the publick Forum of Athens,
were those of Harmodius and Aristogiton, who
were the first Deliverers of the City from Ty-
ranny; and Arrian the Flistorian tells us, that
these very Statues were sent back again to
Athens by Alexander from Susa, whither Xer-
xes had removed them. The Number of Sta-
tues was so great at Rome, that they were call-
ed a Marble People. Rhapsinates, a very ancient
A Egyptian King, erected a Statue of Stone to
Vulcan above seven-and-thirty Foot high.
Sesostris made Statues of himself and his Wife
of the Fleight of eight-and-forty Foot. Amasis
set up a Statue near Memphis, in a leaning
Posture, which was forty-seven Foot long, and
in its Pedestal were two others, each twenty
Foot high. In the Sepulchre of Simandes were
three Statues of Jupiter, made by Memnon, of
wonderful Workmanship, being all cut out of
one single Stone, whereof one, which was in a
sitting Posture, was so large, that only its Foot
was above seven Foot and an Flalf long; and
what was extremely surprizing in it, besides the
Skill of the Artist, in all that huge Stone there
was not the least Spot or Flaw. Others after-
wards, when they could not find Stones large
enough to make Statues of the Size which they
desired, made use of Brass, and formed some of
no less than an hundred Cubits, or an hundred
and fifty Foot high. But the greatest Work
we read of in this Kind, was that of Semiramis,
who not being able to find any Stone large

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1

enough for her Puipose, and being resolved to
make something much bigger than was possible
to be done with Brass, contrived near a Moun-
tain in Media called Bagistan, to have her own
Image carved out of a Rock of two Miles and
a furlong in Length, with the Figures of an
hundred Men offering Sacrifice to her, hewn
out of the same Stone. There is one Particu-
lar relating to this Article of Statues, mention-
ed by Diodorus , by no means to be omitted;
which is, that the Egyptian Statuaries were
arrived at such a Pitch of Skill in their Art, that
they would out of several Stones in several dif-
ferent Places make one Statue, which when
put together should seem to be all the Work
of one Fland; in which surprizing Manner we
are told the Statue of the Pythian Apollo at
Samos was made, one half of it being wrought
by Thelesius, and the other half by Theodorus at
Ephesus. These Things I thought it not amiss
to write here by way of Recreation, which,
though very useful in themselves, are here in-
serted only as an Introduction to the follow-
ing Book, where we shall treat of the Monu-
ments raised by private Persons; to which
they properly belong. For as private Men have
scai’cc suffered even Princes to outdo them in
Greatness of Expence for peipetuating their
Memories, but being equally fired with the
Desire of making their Names famous, have
spared for no Cost which their Fortunes would

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1

bear, to get the Assistance and Skill of the best
Artists for their Purpose; they have accord-
ingly rivalled the greatest Kings in fine Designs
and noble Compositions, so as, in my Opinion,
to be very little, if at all, inferior to them. But
those Works are reserved for the next Book,
in which I dare promise the Reader he shall
find some Entertainment worth his Pains. But
first we are here to speak of some few Particu-
lars necessary to our present Subject.

CHAP. XVII.

Whether Statues ought to be placed in Temples, and what Materials are the
most proper for making them.

Some are against placing any Statues in
Temples; and we are told that Numa,
being a Disciple of Pythagoras, would allow of
none: And Seneca rallies himself and his Coun-
trymen upon this Account; we play with Ba-
bies, says he, like Children. The Ancients,
who were of this Opinion, used to argue con-
cerning the Gods in the following Manner:

Who can be so weak as not to know, that every
Thing relating to the Gods is to be considered
with the Mind, and not with the Eyes, since it
is impossible to give them any Form that can
be in the least Degree answerable to the Ex-
cellence of their Nature? And indeed they
thought that the having no visible Representa-
tions of them made by Hands, must have a
very good Effect, as it would put every Man
upon forming such an Idea of the first Mover,
and of the supreme Intelligence, as best suited
his own Capacity and Way of Thinking: By
which he would be the more induced to revere
the Majesty of the Divine Name. Others
thought quite differently, holding, that the
Gods were represented under human Forms to

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a very wise End, and that they had a very good
Influence upon the Minds and Morals of the
Vulgar, who when they approached those Sta-
tues, imagined they were in the Presence of
the Gods themselves. Others especially were
for setting up to publick View in consecrated
Places, the Effigies of such as had deserved well
of Mankind, and were therefore supposed to be
admitted among the Gods, believing it must
inspire Posterity, when they came to worship
them, with a Love of Glory, and an Emulati-
on of their Virtue. It is certainly a Point of
great Importance what Statues we set up, es-
pecially in Temples, as also whereabouts, in
what Number, and of what Materials: For no
ridiculous Figures are to be admitted here, as
of the God Priapus, that is usually set up in
Gardens to scare away the Birds; nor of fight-
ing Soldiers, as in Porticoes, or the like; nei-
ther do I think they should be placed in close
Nooks and mean Corners. But first let us treat
of the Materials with which they should be
made, and then proceed to the other Points.

Of old, says Plutarch, they used to make their
Images of Wood; as was that of Apollo at De-
los; and at Popolonia, near Piombino, was one
of Jupiter of Vine-tree, which many affirmed
to have remained perfectly clear of the least
Corruption. Of the same Sort was that of the
Ephesian Diana, which some said was of Ebony,
but Musianus tells us it was of Vine-tree. Perns,
who built the Temple of Juno the Argive, and
dedicated his Daughter to be Priestess of it,
made a Jupiter out of the Trunk of a Pear-
tree. Some would not allow the Statues of the
Gods to be made of Stone, as thinking that
Material had something in it too rugged and
cruel. They also disapproved of Gold and
Silver for this Use, because those Metals are
produced of a barren ungrateful Soil, and have

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1

a wan sickly Hue. The Poet says:

Great Jove stood crampt beneath the lowly Roof,
Scarce full erect; and in his mighty Hand
Brandish’ d aloft a Thunderbolt of Clay.

SOME among the Egyptians were of Opini-
on, that the Substance of God was Fire, and
that he dwelt in the elemental Flame, and
could not be conceived by the Senses of Man-
kind: For which Reason they made their
Gods of Christal. Others thought the Gods
ought to be made of black Stone, in the Sup-
position of that Colour being incomprehensi-
ble; and others lastly of Gold, in Conformity
with the Colour of the Stars. I own for my
Part, I have been very much in Suspense what
Materials was most proper for making Images
that are to be the Objects of Worship. You
will say, no doubt, that whatever is to be made

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1

into the Representation of God, ought to be
the noblest Material that can be had. Next to
the noblest is the rarest; and yet I would not be
for making them of Salt, as Solinus informs us
the Sicilians used to do; nor of Glass, like
some mentioned by Pliny; neither would I
have them of massy Gold or Silver, not that
I dislike those Materials for being produced of
a barren Soil, or for their sickly Hue; but for
other Reasons: Among which one is, that I
think it should be a Point of Religion with us
that those Representations which we set up to
be adored as Gods, should bear as much Re-
semblance to the Divine Nature as possible.

For this Reason, I would have them made im-
mortal in Duration, as far as it is in the Power
of mortal Men to effect it. And here I cannot
help enquiring, what should be the Reason of
a very whimsical, though very old Persuasion,
which is firmly rooted in the Minds of the Vul-
gar, that a Picture of God, or of some Saint in
one Place shall hear the Prayers of Votaries,
when in another Place the Statue of the very
same God or Saint shall be utterly deaf to them?
Nay, and what is still more nonsensical, if you
do but remove the very same Statue, for which
the People used to have the highest Venerati-
on, to some other Station, they seem to look
upon it as a Bankrupt, and will neither trust it
with their Prayers, nor take the least Notice of
it. Such Statues should therefore have Seats
that are fixed, eminent and peculiar to them-
selves. It is said, that there never was any
beautiful Piece of Workmanship known in the
Memory of Man to be made of Gold, as if that
Prince of Metals disdained to owe any thing to
the Skill of an Artificer. If this be true, we
should never use it in the Statues of our Gods,
which we should desire to make suitable to the
Subject. Besides that, the Thirst of the Gold

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1

might tempt some not only to rob our Statue
of his Beard, but to melt him quite down. I
should chuse Brass, if the lovely Purity of fine
white Marble did not oblige me to give that
the Preference. Yet there is one Considerati-
on which weighs very much in Favour of Brass,
and that is its Duration, provided we make our
Statue not so massy, but that the Odium and
Detestation of spoiling it may be much greater
than the Profit to be made by melting it down
for other Purposes: I would have it indeed no
more than if it were beat out with a Flammer,
or run into a thin Plate, so as to seem no more
than a Skin. We read of a Statue made of
Ivory, so large that it would hardly stand under
the Roof of the Temple. But that I dislike,
for there ought to be a due Proportion observ-
ed as well in Size, as in Form and Compositi-
on: Upon which Accounts too the Figures of
the greater Deities, with their gruff Beards, and
stern Countenances, do not suit well in the
same Place with the soft Features of Virgins. I
am likewise of Opinion, that the having but
few Statues of Gods, may help to increase the
People’ s Veneration and Reverence to them.
Two, or at most three, may be placed proper-
ly enough upon the Altar. All the rest may be
disposed in Niches in other convenient Places.
In all such Representations of Gods and Fleroes,
the Sculptor should endeavour as much as pos-
sible, to express both by the Flabit and Action
of the Figure, the Character and Life of the
Person. Not that I approve of those extrava-
gant Attitudes which make a Statue look like
the Flero of a Droll, or a Prize-fighter; but I
would have somewhat of a Dignity and Maje-
sty both in the Countenance, and all the rest
of the Body, that should speak the God, so that
he may seem both by his Look and Posture to
be ready to hear and receive his Adorers. Such

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1

should be the Statues in Temples. Let others
be left to Theatres, and other profane Edifices.

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1

THE

ARCHITECTURE

OF

Leone Batista Alberti.

BOOK VIII. CHAP. I.

Of the Ornamen ts of the great Ways eitherwithin or without the City, and of
the proper Places for interring or burn ing the Bodies of the Dead.

We have formerly observed, that the
Ornaments annexed to all Sorts of
Buildings make an essential Part of
Architecture, and it is manifest that
every Kind of Ornament is not proper for every
Kind of Structure. Thus we are to endeavour,
to the utmost of our Power, to make our sacred
Works, especially if they are of a publick Na-
ture, as compleatly adorned as possible, as be-
ing intended for the Honour of the Gods;
whereas profane Structures are designed en-
tirely for Men. The meaner therefore ought
to yield to the more honourable; but yet they
too may be embellished with such Ornaments
as are suitable to them. In what Manner sacred
Buildings of a publick Nature are to be adorn-
ed, we have shewn in the last Book: We now
come to profane Structures, and to give an Ac-
count what Ornaments are proper to each dis-
tinct Sort of them. And first I shall take No-
tice, that all Ways are publick Works, as being
contrived for the Use of the Citizens, and the
Convenience of Strangers: But as there are
Travellers by Water as well as by Land, we
shall say something of both. And here it will
be proper to call to Mind what has been said
elsewhere, that of Ways some are properly
Highways, others in a Manner but private
ones; as also, that there must be a Difference
between the Ways within the City, and those

538

1

in the Country. Highways in the Country re-
ceive their greatest Beauty from the Country
itself through which they lie, from its being
rich, well cultivated, full of Houses and Villa-
ges, affording delightful Prospects, now of the
Sea, now of a fine Hill, now a River, now a
Spring, now a barren Spot and a Rock, now a
fine Plain, Wood, or Valley; nor will it be a
small Addition to its Beauty, that it be not
steep, broken by Precipices, or deep with Dirt;
but clear, smooth, spacious and open on all
Sides: and what Pains were not the Ancients
at to obtain these Advantages? I shall not
waste the Reader’ s Time to relate how they
paved their Highways for above an hundred
Miles round their Capital with extreme hard
Stones, raising solid Causeways under them
with huge Stones all the Way. The Appian
Way was paved from Rome quite to Brundusium.
In many Places along their Highways we see
Rocks demolished, Mountains levelled, Vallies
raised, Hills cut through, with incredible Ex-
pence and miraculous Labour; Works of great
Use and Glory. Another great Embellishment
to a Highway, is its furnishing Travellers with
frequent Occasion of Discourse, especially upon
notable Subjects. A Friend or Companion that
is not sparing of his Speech, says Laberius, up-
on a Journey is as good as a Vehicle; and
there is no doubt but Discourse takes of much

539

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from the Fatigue of Travelling. For which
Reason, as I had always the highest Esteem for
the Prudence os our Ancestors in all their In-
stitutions, so I particularly commend them for
that Custom of theirs, whereof we shall speak
immediately, by which, though in it they aim-
ed at much greater Ends, they afforded so much
Recreation to Travellers. It was a Law of the
twelve Tables, that no dead Body should be
interred or burnt within the City, and it was
a very ancient Law of the Senate that no
Coipse should be interred within the Walls,
except the Vestal Virgins, and the Emperors,
who were not included within this Prohibition.
Plutarch tell us, that the Valeri and the Fa-
bricii, as a Mark of Flonour, had a Privilege to
be buried in the Forum; but their Descend-
ants, having only set their dead down in it,
and just clapt a Torch to the Body, used im-
mediately to take it up again to bury it else-
where; thereby shewing that they had such a
Privilege, but that they did not think it decent
to make use of it. The Ancients theresore
chose their Sepulchres in convenient and conspi-
cuous Places by the Side of Flighways, and em-
bellished them, as far as their Abilities and the
Skill of the Architect would reach, with a per-
fect Profusion of Ornaments. They were built
after the noblest Designs; no Columns or Pi-
lasters were spared for, nor did they want the
richest Incrustations, nor any Delicacies that
Sculpture or Painting could afford; and they
were generally adorned with Busts of Brass or
marble finished after the most exquisite Taste:

By which Custom how much that prudent Peo-
ple promoted the Service of the Common-
wealth and good Manners, would be tedious
now to recapitulate. I shall only just touch
upon those Points which make to our present
Puipose. And how, think ye, must it delight

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Travellers as they passed along the Appian
Way, or any other great Road, to find them
full of a vast Number of Tombs of the most
excellent Workmanship, and to be every Mo-
ment picking out some more beautiful than the
rest, and observing the Epitaphs and Effigies of
their greatest Men? Do you not think that
from so many Monuments of ancient Story,
they must of Necessity take continual Occasion
to discourse of the noble Exploits persormed by
those Heroes of old, thereby sweetning the Te-
diousness of their Journey, and exalting the Ho-
nour of Rome, their native City? But this was
the least of the good Effects which they pro-
duced; and it was of much more Importance
that they conduced not a little the Preservation
of the Commonwealth, and of the Fortunes of
private Persons. One of the chief Causes why
the Rich rejected the Agrarian Law, as we
are insormed by the Historian Appian, was be-
cause they looked upon it to be an Impiety to
suffer the Property of the Tombs of their Fore-
fathers to be transferred to others. How many
great Inheritances may we therefore suppose
them to have left untouched to their Posterity,
merely upon this Principle of Duty, Piety or
Religion, which else would have been prodi-
gally wasted in Riot and Gaming? Besides
that those Monuments were a very great Ho-
nour to the Name of the City itself, and of a
great Number of private Families, and was a
constant Incitement to Posterity to imitate the
Virtues of those whom they saw so highly re-
vered. Then again, with what Eyes think
you, whenever such a Misfortune happened,
must they behold a furious and insolent Enemy
ransacking among the Sepulchres of their An-
cestors? And what Man could be so base and
cowardly, as not to be immediately inflamed with
Rage and Desire of revenging such an Insult

541

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upon his Country and his Honour? And what
Boldness and Courage must Shame, Piety and
Grief stir up in the Hearts of Men upon such
an Occasion? The Ancients therefore are great-
ly to be praised; not that I presume to blame
the present Practice of burying our Dead within
the City, and in holy Places, provided we do
not lay them in our Temples, where our Ma-
gistrates and great Men arc to meet for the
Celebration of holy Rites, so as to pollute the
most sacred Offices with the noisome Vapours
of a rotting Coipse. The Custom of burning
the Dead was much more convenient.

CHAP. II.

Of Sepulchres, and the various Manner of Burial.

I shall here take an Opportunity to insert
some Things, which in my Opinion, are by
no means to be omitted, concerning the Struc-
ture of Sepulchres, since they seem to partake
of the Nature of publick Works, as being de-
dicated to Religion. Let the Place where you

542

1

inter a dead Body, says the old Law, be sacred;
and we still profess the same Belief, namely,
that Sepulchres belong to Religion. As Reli-
gion therefore ought to be preferred before all
Things, I shall treat of these, though intended
for the Use of private Persons, before I proceed
to profane Works of a publick Nature. There
scarce ever was a People so barbarous, as to be
without the Use of Sepulchres, except, perhaps,
those wild Ichthyophagi in the remote Parts of
India, who are said to throw the Bodies of their
Dead into the Sea, affirming that it mattered
little whether they were consumed by Fire,
Earth, or Water. The Albani of Scythia too
thought it to be a Crime to take any Care of
the Dead. The Sabceans looked upon a Corpse
to be no better than so much Dung, and ac-
cordingly they cast the Bodies, even of their
Kings, upon the Dunghill. The Troglodytes
used to tie the Plead and Feet of their Dead to-
gether, and so hunted them away, with Scoffs
and Flouts, to the first convenient Spot of
Ground they could find, without more Regard
to one Place than to another, where they threw
them in, setting up a Goat’ s Florn at their
Plead. But no Man who has the least Tinc-
ture of Flumanity, will approve of these bar-
barous Customs. Others, as well among the
Egyptians as the Greeks, used to erect Sepul-
chres not only to the Bodies, but even to the
Names of their Friends; which Piety must be
universally commended. It was a very lauda-
ble Notion among the Indians, that the best
Monument was to live in the Memory of Pos-
terity; and therefore they celebrated the Fu-
nerals of their greatest Men no otherwise than
by singing their Praises. Flowever, it is my
Opinion, that Care ought to be taken of the
dead Body, for the Sake of the Living; and
for the Preservation of the Name to Posterity,

543

1

there can be no Means more effectual than Se-
pulchres. Our Ancestors used to erect Statues
and Sepulchres, at the publick Expence, in
Honour of those that had spilt their Blood and
lost their Lives for the Commonwealth, as a
Reward of their Services, and an Incitement to
others to emulate their Virtue: But perhaps
they set up Statues to a great many, but Sepul-
chres to few, because they knew that the for-
mer were defaced and consumed by Age;
whereas the Sanctity of Sepulchres, says Cicero, is
so annexed to the very Ground itself, that nothing
can either efface or remove it: For whereas
other Things are destroyed, Tombs grow more
sacred by Age. And they dedicated these Se-
pulchres to Religion, as I imagine, with this
View, that the Memory of the Person, which
they trusted to the Protection of such a Struc-
ture, and to the Stability of the Ground, might
be defended by the Reverence and Fear of the
Gods, from all Violence from the Hand of
Man. Hence proceeded the Law of the twelve
Tables, that the Vestibule or Entrance of a Se-
pulchre should not be employed to any Man’ s
private Use, and there was moreover a Law
which ordained the heaviest Punishment upon
any Man that should violate an Urn, or throw
down or break any of the Columns of a Tomb.

In a Word, the Use os Sepulchres has been re-
ceived by all the politest Nations, and the Care
and Respect of them was so great among the
Athenians, that if any os their Generals neglec-
ted to give honourable Burial to one of those
that were slain in War, he was liable to capital
Punishment for it. There was a Law among
the Hebrews, which injoined them to give Bu-
rial even to their Enemies. Many and various
are the Methods of Burial and Sepulture which
we read of; but they are entirely foreign to
our Design: As for Instance, that which is re-

544

1

lated of the Scythians, who thought the greatest
Honour they could do their Dead, was to eat
them at their Meals; and others kept Dogs to
devour them when they died: But of this we
need say no more. Most of the wisest Legisla-
tors have been careful to prevent Excess in the
Expence and Magnificence of Funerals and
Tombs. Pittacus ordained, that the greatest
Ornament that should be erected over any Per-
son’ s Grave, should be three little Columns,
one single Cubit high; for it was the Opinion,
that it was ridiculous to make any Difference
in a Thing that was common to the Nature of
every Man, and therefore in this Point the
Richest and the Poorest were set upon the same
Foot, and all were covered with common Earth,
according to the old Custom; in doing which it
was the received Notion, that as Man was origi-
nally formed of Fai th, such a Burial was only lay-
ing him once more in his Mother’ s Lap. We also
find an ancient Regulation, that no Man should
have a more magnificent Tomb, than could be
built by ten Men in the Space of three Days.

The A Egyptians , on the contrary, were more
curious about their Sepulchres than any other
Nation whatsoever; and they used to say, that
it was very ridiculous in Men to take so much
Pains in the building of Houses where they were
to dwell but a very short Space of Time, and to
neglect the Structure of a Habitation where they

545

1

were to dwell for ever. The most probable
Account I can find of the first Original of these
Structures, is as follows: The Getce, in the
most remote Antiquity, used at first, in the
Place where they interred a dead Body, to set
up a Stone for a Mark, or perhaps (as Plato in
his Laws more approves) a Tree, and afterwards
they used to raise something of a Fence about
it to keep off the Beasts from routing it up, or
moving it out of its Place; and when the same
Season of the Year came round again, and they
saw that Field either chequered with Flowers,
or laden with Grain as it was when the Person
died, it was no wonder if it awakened in them
the Love of their dear Friends whom they had
lost, and prompted them to go together to the
Place where they lay, relating and singing their
Actions and Sayings, and dressing up their Mo-
numents with whatever they thought would
embellish them. Flence perhaps arose the
Custom among several different Nations, and
particularly among the Greeks, of adorning and
offering Sacrifices upon the Tombs of those to
whom they were much obliged. They met,
says Thucydides, upon the Place, in Flabits suit-
able to the Occasion, bringing with them the first
Fruits of their Harvest, thinking the publick
Performance of these Rites to be an Act of the
greatest Piety and Devotion. From whence I
proceed to conjecture, that besides raising the
Ground over the Place of Burial, and erecting
little Columns for Marks, they used also to raise
little Alars whereon to celebrate those Sacrifices
with the greatest Decency, and consequently
they took care to make them as convenient and
beautiful as was possible. The Places where
these Tombs were erected, were various amongst
the Ancients. According to the Pontificial
Law, it was not permitted to erect a Tomb in
any publick Square. Plato was of Opinion,

546

1

that a Man ought not to be in the least offen-
sive to human Society either alive or dead; and
for this Reason he ordained that the Dead
should be interred without the City, in some
barren Place. In Imitation of this, others set
apart a certain determined Place of Burial, un-
der the open Air, and out of the Way of all
Resort; which I highly approve: Others, on
the contrary, preserved the Bodies of their
Dead in their Houses, inclosed either in Salt or
Terrass. Mycerinus , King of A Egypt , inclosed
the dead Body of his Daughter within a wood-
en Figure of a Bull, and commanded the Sa-
crifices to perform Obsequies in her Honour
every Day. Sen’ius relates, that the Ancients
used to place the Sepulchres of their Sons, that
had the greatest Stock of Merit and Nobility,
upon the Top of very high Hills. The Alex-
andrians , in the Time of Strabo the Historian,
had Gardens and Inclosures consecrated wholly
to the Burial of the Dead. Our more modern
Ancestors used to build little Chapels, along the
Sides of their great Churches, on puipose for
Tombs. All through the Country, which was
once the ancient Latium, we find the Burial-
places of whole Families, made under Ground,
with Urns standing in Rows along the Walls
full of the Ashes of the Deceased, with short
Inscriptions, and the Names of the Baker, Bar-
ber, Cook, Surgeon, and other Officers and Ser-
vants that were reckoned Part of the Family;
in those Urns which inclosed the Ashes of little
Children, once the Joy of their Mothers, they
made their Effigies in Stuc; but those of grown
Men, especially if they were noble, were made
of Marble. These were the Customs of the
Ancients: Nor do I blame the making use of
any Place indifferently for burying the Body,
provided some distinguished Place be chosen
for setting up an Inscription in the Person’ s

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Honour. Now what chiefly delights us in all
Tombs, is the Design of the Structure, and the
Epitaph. What Sort of Design the Ancients
approved most in these Works, I cannot so
easily affirm. Augustus ’ s Sepulchre in Rome
was built of square Blocks of Marble, shaded
with Ever-greens, and at the Top stood his
Statue. In the Island of Tyrina, not far from
Carmania, the Sepulchre of Erythrcea was a
great Mound of Earth planted with wild Palm-
trees. The Sepulchre of Zarina, Queen of the
Saces, was a Pyramid of three Sides, with a
Statue of Gold on the Top. Archatheus, one
of Xerxes ‘ s Lieutenants, had a Tomb of Earth
erected for him by the whole Army. But the
main Point which all seem to have aimed at,
was to have something different from all others,
not as to condemn the Sepulchres of others,
but to draw the Eyes of Men to take the great-
er Notice of them: And from this general Use
of Sepulchres, and these constant Endeavours
to invent something new in that Way, the
Consequence at last was, that it was impossible
to think of any thing which had not already
been put in Practice to a very great Perfection,
and all were extremely beautiful in their seve-
ral Kinds. From the Observation I have made
of the numberless Works of this Nature, I find
that some had nothing in their Eye, but adorn-
ing that which was to contain the Body, while

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others went farther, and raised such a Super-
structure as was proper for placing Epitaphs
and Inscriptions of the Person’ s Exploits. The
former were contented with a plain Case for
the Body, or with adding somewhat of a little
Chapel about it, according to the Religion of
the Place. But the others erected either a Co-
lumn, or a Pyramid, an Obelisk, or some other
great Superstructure, not principally for con-
taining the Body, but rather for delivering
down the Name with Glory to Posterity. We
have already taken Notice, that there is a Stone
called Sarcophagus, found at Ason, a Town
of Troas, which consumes a dead Body im-
mediately; and in any made Ground, con-
sisting chiefly of old Rubbish, the Moisture is
presently dried up. But I shall insist no longer
upon these minute Particulars.

CHAP. III.

Of little Chapels, by way of Sepulchres, Pyramids, Columns, Alars and Moles.

Now since the Sepulchres of the An-
cients are generally approved, and we
find them in different Places built sometimes
after the Manner of little Chapels, sometimes
in Pyramids, sometimes Columns, and in se-
veral other Forms, as Moles and the like, we
shall say something of each of these: And first
of Chapels. These little Chapels should be
like so many little Models of Temples; nor is
it at all improper to add the Ornaments and
Designs of any other Sort of Building, provi-
ded they be equally well adapted both for
Beauty and Duration. Whether it be most
adviseable to build a Sepulchre which we would
have, if possible, endure to Eternity, of noble
or mean Materials, is not thoroughly deter-
mined, upon Account of the Danger of their

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being removed for their Value. But the Beau-
ty of its Ornaments, as we have observed else-
where, is extremely effectual to its Preserva-
tion, and to securing the Monument to Pos-
terity. Of the Sepulchres of those great Prin-
ces Cains Caligula, and Claudius Ccesar, which
no doubt must have been very noble, nothing
now remains but some few small square Stones
of two Cubits broad, on which their Names
are inscribed; and if those Inscriptions had
been cut upon larger Stones, I doubt not they
too would e’ er now have been earned away
with the other Ornaments. In other Places
we see Sepulchres of very great Antiquity,
which have never been injured by any body,
because they were built of common Chequer-
work, or of Stone that would not adorn any
other Building, so that they were never any
Temptation to Greediness. From whence I
draw this Admonition to those who would
have their Sepulchres remain to Peipetuity,
that they build not indeed with a base Sort of
Stone, but not with such excellent, as to be a
Temptation to every Man that beholds it, and
to be in peipetual Danger of being stolen away.
Besides, in all Works of this Nature, a decent
Modesty should be observed according to every
Man’ s Quality and Degree; so that, I con-
demn a Profusion of Expence in the Tombs
even of Monarchs themselves, nor can I help
blaming those huge Piles, built by the a E gyp-
tian Kings for their Sepulchres, which seem to
have been displeasing to the Gods themselves,
since none of them were buried in those proud
Monuments. Others perhaps may praise our
Etrurians for not coming short even of the
A Egyptians in the Magnificence of their Tombs,
and particularly Porsena, who built himself a
Sepulchre below the Town of Clusium, all of
square Stone, in the Base whereof, which was

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fifty Foot high, was a Labyrinth which no
Man could find his Way thro’ , and over this
Base five Pyramids, one in the Middle, and one
at each Corner, the Breadth of each whereof,
at the Bottom was seventy-five Foot; at the
Top of each hung a brazen Globe, to which
several little Bells were fastened by Chains,
which being shaken by the Wind might be
heard at a considerable Distance: Over all
this were four other Pyramids, an hundred
Foot high, and others again over these, aston-
ishing no less for their Workmanship than for
their Greatness. I cannot be pleased with these
enormous Structures, serving to no good Pur-
pose whatsoever. There is something much
more commendable in the Tomb of Cyrus,

King of the Persians, and there is more true
Greatness in his Modesty, than in the vain Glory
of all those haughtier Piles. Near the Town
of Pasargardce, in a little vaulted Temple
built of square Stone, with a Door scarce two
Foot high, lay the Body of Cyrus, inclosed in
a golden Urn, as the Royal Dignity required;

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round this little Chapel was a Grove of all Sorts
of Fruit-trees, and a large green Meadow, full of
Roses and other Flowers and Flerbs of grateful
Scent, and of every Thing that could make the
Place delightful and agreeable. The Epitaph
was adapted to the Structure:

Cyrus am I that founded Persia’ s State,

Then envy not this little Place of Rest.

BUT to return to Pyramids. Some few per-
haps may have built their Pyramids with three
Sides, but they have generally been made with
four, and their Fleight has most commonly
been made equal to their Breadth. Some have
been particularly commended for making the
Joints of the Stones in their Pyramids so close,
that the Shadow which they cast was perfectly
straight without the least Interruption. Pyra-
mids have for the most Paid been made of
square Stone, but some few have been built
with Brick. As for these Columns which have
been erected as Monuments; some have been
such as are used in other Structures; others have
been so large as to be fit for no Edifice; but
merely to serve as a Monument to Posterity.

  • OF this last Sort we are now to treat, and its
    Members are as follows: Instead of a Basement
    there are several Steps rising above the Level
    of the Platform, over these a square Plinth, and
    above that another not less than the first. In
    the third Place came the Base of the Column,
    then the Column with its Capital, and last of
    all the Statue standing upon a Plinth. Some
    between the first and second Plinths under the
    Base placed a Sort of Die to raise the Work
    higher, and give it the greater Air of Majesty.

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The Proportions of all these Members are taken
from the Diameter of the Bottom of the Shaft,
as we observed with Relation to the Columns
of the Temples; but the Base, in this Case
where the Superstructure is to be so very large,
must have but one Torus, and not several like
common Columns. The whole Thickness of
the Base therefore must be divided into five
Parts, two of which must be given to the To-
rus, and three to the Plinth. The Measure of
the Plinth every Way must be one Diameter
and a Quarter of the Shaft of the Column. The
Pedestal on which this Base lies must have the
following Parts. The uppermost Member in
this, and indeed all other Ornaments, must be
a Cymatium, and the lowermost a Plinth, which,
whether it be in the Nature of Steps, or of a
Cyma either upright or reversed, is properly the
Base of each Member. But we have some few
Things relating to Pedestals to take Notice of,
which we puiposely omitted in the last Book,
in order to consider them here. We observed
that it was usual to run up a continued low
Wall under all the Columns, in order to sup-
port them; but then to make the Passage more
clear and open, it was common to remove that
Part of this Wall which lay between the Co-
lumns, and to leave only that Part which was
really necessary to the Support of the Column.
This Part of the Wall thus left I call the Pede-
stal. The Ornament of this Pedestal at the
Top was a Cymatium, either upright or revers-
ed, or something of the same Nature, which
was answerd at the Bottom by a Plinth. These
two Ornaments went clear round the Pedestal.
The Cymatium was the fifth Part of the
Height of the whole Pedestal, or else the sixth;
and the Body of the Pedestal was never less in
Thickness than the Diameter of the Bottom of
the Shaft, that the Plinth of the Base might not

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lie upon a Void. Some, in order to strengthen
the Work yet more, made the Pedestal broader
than the Plinth of the Base, by an eighth Part of
that Plinth. Lastly, the Height of the Pede-
stal, besides its Cymatium and Plinth, was either
equal to its Breadth, or a fifth Part more: And
this I find to have been the Ordonnance of the
Pedestal under the Columns used by the most
excellent Workmen. But to return to the Co-
lumn. Under the Base of the Column we are
to place the Pedestal, answering duly to the
Proportions of the Base in the Manner just now
mentioned. This Pedestal must be crowned
with an entire Cornice, which is most usually
of the Ionic Order; the Members of which you
may remember to be as follows: The first and
lowest Member is a Cymatium, then a Denticle,
next an Ovolo, with a small Baguette and a
Fillet. Under this Pedestal is placed another
answerable to the former in every Member, and
of such a Proportion that no Part of the Super-
structure may lie over a Void; but to this Pe-
destal we must ascend from the Level of the
Ground by three or five Steps, unequal both in
their Height and Breadth; and these Stepts all
together must not be higher than a fourth, nor
lower than a sixth Paid of the Height of the
Pedestal which stands upon them. In this lower
Pedestal we make a Door dressed after the Man-
ner of the Doric or Ionic Order, according to
the Rules already laid down for the Doors of
Temples. In the upper Pedestal we place our
Inscriptions or carve Trophies. If we make

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any Thing of a Plinth between these two Pe-
destals, the Height of that Plinth must be a
third Part of the Height of the Pedestal itself;
and this Interspace must be filled up with the Fi-
gures of chearful Deities, such as Victory, Glory,
Fame, Plenty, and the like. Some covered the
upper Pedestal with Plates of Brass, gilt. The
Pedestals and the Base being compleated, the
next Work is to erect the Column upon them,
and its Height is usually seven Times its Dia-
meter. If the Column be very high, let its up-
per Diameter be no more than one tenth Part
less than its lower; but in smaller Columns,
observe the Rules given in the last Book. Some
have erected Columns an hundred Foot high,
and enriched all the Body of the Shaft with
Figures and Stories in Relieve, leaving a Hol-
low within for a winding Stair to ascend to the
Top of the Column. On such Columns they
set a Doric Capital, but without any Gorge-
line. Over the upper Cymaise of the Capital
in smaller Columns they made a regular Archi-
trave, Freze and Cornice, full of Ornaments on
every Side; but in these great Columns those
Members were omitted, it being no easy Mat-
ter to find Stones sufficiently large for such a
Work, nor to set them in their Places when
found. But at the Top of the Capital both of
great and small, there was always something
to serve as a Pedestal for the Statue to stand
upon. If this Pedestal was a square Plinth,
then none of its Angles ever exceeded the Solid
of the Column: But if it was round, its Dia-
meter was not to be more than one of the Sides
of such a Square. The Height of the Statue
was one third of the Column; and for this
Sort of Columns thus much may suffice. The
Structure of Moles among the Ancients was as
follows: First they raised a square Basement as
they did for the Platforms of their Temples.

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Then they carried up a Wall not less high than
a sixth, nor higher than a fourth of the Length
of the Platform. The whole Ornament of
this Wall was either at the Top and Bottom,
and sometimes at the Angles, or else consisted
in a Kind of Colonade all along the Wall. If
there were no Columns but only at the Angles,
then the whole Height of the Wall, above the
Basement, was divided into four Parts, three of
which were given to the Column with its Base
and Capital, and one to the other Ornaments
at the Top, to wit, the Architrave, Freze and
Cornice; and this last Paid was again divided
into sixteen Minutes, five of which were given
to the Architrave, five to the Freze, and six to
the Cornice and its Cymaise. The Space be-
tween the Architrave and the Basement was
divided into five-and-twenty Parts; three
whereof were given to the Height of the Ca-
pital, and two to the Height of the Base, and
the Remainder to the Height of the Column,
and there were always square Pilasters at the
Angles according to this Proportion: The Base
consisted of a single Torus, which was just half
the Height of the Base itself. The Pilaster at
the Bottom, instead of a Fillet, had just
the same Projecture as at the Top of the
Shaft. The Breadth of the Pilaster, in this
Sort of Structure, was one fourth of its Height;
but when the rest of the Wall was adorned
with an Order of Columns, then the Pilasters
at the Angles were in Breadth only a sixth
Part of their Length, and the other Columns
along the Wall borrowed all their Ornaments
and Proportions from the Design of those used
in Temples. There is only this Difference be-
tween this Sort of Colonades and the former,
that in the first, as the Base is continued on
from one Angle of the Wall to the other, at
the Bottom, so also are the Fillet and Astragal

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at the Top of the Column under the Archi-
trave, which is not practiced where there are a
Number of Columns set against the Wall;
though some are for carrying on the Base quite
round the Structure here as well as in Temples.
Over this square Structure which served for a
Basement, rose a round one of excellent Work-
manship, exceeding the Basement in Height
not less than half its Diameter, nor more than
two thirds, and the Breadth of this Rotunda
was never less than half one of the Sides of the
Basement, nor more than five sixths. Many
took five thirds, and over this round Building
raised another square one, with a second round
over that, after the same Manner as the former,
till the Edifice rose to four Stories, adorning
them according to the foregoing Description.
Neither within the Mole itself wanted there
Stairs, or little Chapels for Devotion, or Co-
lumns rising from the Basement to the upper
Stories, with Statues between them, and In-
scriptions disposed in convenient Places.

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CHAP. IV.

Of the Inscriptions and Symbols carved on Sepulchres

Let us now proceed to the Inscriptions
themselves, the Use whereof was various,
and almost infinite among the Ancients, being
by them not only used in their Sepulchres, but
also in their Temples, and even in their private
Houses. Symmachus tells us, that on the Pe-
diments of their Temples they used to cut the
Name of the God to whom they dedicated,
and it is the Practice with our Countrymen to
inscribe upon their Churches the Name of the
Saints, and the Year when they were conse-
crated to them; which I highly approve. Nor
is it foreign to our Subject to take Notice, that
when Crates the Philosopher came to Cyzicus,
finding these Verses wrote over the Door of al-
most every private House:

The mighty Hercules, the Son of Jove,

The Scourge of Monsters, dwells within these Walls.
Let nothing ill dare to approach the Place.

HE could not help laughing, and advised
them rather to write over their Doors: Here
dwells Poverty; thinking that would drive away
all Sorts of Monsters must faster than Hercules
himself, though he were to live again. Epitaphs
on Sepulchres are either written, which are pro-
perly Epigrams, or represented by Figures and
Symbols. Plato would not have an Epitaph
consist of more than four Lines; and accord-
ingly Ovid says:

On the rear’ d Column be my Story wrote.

But brief that every Passenger may read.

AND it is certain that Prolixity, though it

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is to be condemned every where, is worse in
this Case than any other: Or if the Inscription
be of any Length, it ought to be extremely
elegant, and apt to raise Compassion, and so
pleasing that you may not regret the Trouble
of reading it, but be fond of getting it by Heart,
and repeating it often. That of Omenea has
been much commended.

If cruel Fate allow’ cl the sad Exchange
Of Life for Life, how chearfully for thee,

My best-lov’ cl Omenea hacl I died!

But since it must not be, these weeping Eyes
The hated Sun and painful Light shall fly,

To seek thee in the gloomy Realms below.

So this other:

Behold, O Citizens, the Bust and Urn
Of ancient Ennius, your old Bard, who sung
In lofty Notes your Fathers brave Exploits.

Let none with Tears or solemn funeral Pomp
Bewail my Death, for Ennius still survives,

Still honour’ cl lives upon the Tongue of Fame.

ON the Tombs of those that were slain at
Thermopylae, was this Inscription: O Passenger,
tell the Spartans that we lie here, obeying their
Commands. Nor is there any thing amiss in
throwing in a Stroke of Pleasantry upon such
an Occasion.

Thy Journey, Traveller, a Moment stay
To view a Wonder strange and seldom seen:

A Man and Wife that lie for once at Peace.

Thou ask’ st our Name. Ne’ er shalt thou know
from me.

Mind not my stutt’ ring Husband; come to me:
His Name is Balbus, Bebbra mine. Ah Wife!

Will nothing stop that drunken Tongue of thine!

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I AM extremely delighted with such Inscripti-
ons. The Ancients used to gild the Letters
which they used in their Inscriptions. The
A Egyptians employed Symbols in the following
Manner: They carved an Eye, by which they
understood God; a Vulture for Nature; a Bee
for King; a Circle for Time; an Ox for Peace,
and the like. And their Reason for expressing
their Sense by these Symbols was, that Words
were understood only by the respective Nations
that talked the Language, and therefore In-
scriptions in common Characters must in a short
Time be lost: As it has actually happened to
our Etrurian Characters: For among the Ruins
of several Towns, Castles and Burial-places, I
have seen Tomb-stones dug up with Inscripti-
ons on them, as is generally believed, in Etru-
rian Characters, which are like both those of
the Greeks and Latins; but no body can un-
derstand them: And the same, the / Egyptians
supposed, must be the Case with ah Sorts of

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Writing whatsoever; but the Manner of ex-
pressing their Sense which they used upon these
Occasions, by Symbols, they thought must al-
ways be understood by ingenious Men of all
Nations, to whom alone they were of Opinion,
that Things of Moment were fit to be commu-
nicated. In Imitation of this Practice, various
Symbols have been used upon Sepulchres. Over
the Grave of Diogenes the Cynic, was a Column
with a Dog upon the Top of it, cut in Parian
Marble. Cicero glories, that he who was of
Arpinum, was the Discoverer at Syracuse of
Archimedes ‘ s Tomb, which was quite decayed
and neglected, and all over-grown with Bram-
bles, and not known, even to the Inhabitants
of the Place, and which he found out by a Cy-
linder and small Sphere which he saw cut upon
a high Column that stood over it. On the
Sepulchre of Symandes, King of /Egypt, the
Figure of his Mother was cut out of a Piece of
Marble twenty Cubits high, with three Royal
Diadems upon her Head, denoting her to be
the Daughter, Wife and Mother of a King.

On the Tomb of Sardanapalus, King of the
Assyrians, was a Statue which seemed to clap
its Hands together by Way of Applause, with
an Epitaph to this Effect: In one single Day I
built Tarsus and Archileum; but do you. Friend,
eat, drink and be merry; for there is nothing else
among Men that is worthy of this Applause.

Such were the Inscriptions and Symbols used
in those Nations. But our Romans recorded
the Exploits of their great Men, by carving
their Story in Marble. This gave rise to Co-
lumns, Triumphal Arches, Porticoes enriched
with memorable Events, preserved both in
Painting and Sculpture. But no Monument of
this Nature should be made, except for Acti-
ons that truly deserve to be perpetuated. But
we have now dwelt long enough upon this

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Subject. We have spoken of the publick Ways
by Land; and the same Ornaments will serve
those by Water: But as high Watch-towers
belong to both, it is necessary here to say some-
thing of them.

CHAP. V.

Of Towers and their Ornaments.

  • The greatest Ornaments are lofty Tow-
    ers placed in proper Situations, and built
    after handsome Designs: And when there are
    a good Number of them strewed up and down
    the Country, they afford a most beautiful Pro-
    spect: Not that I commend the Age about
    two hundred Years ago, when People seemed
    to be seized with a Kind of general Infection
    of building high Watch-towers, even in the
    meanest Villages, insomuch that scarce a com-
    mon House-keeper thought he could not be
    without his Turret: By which means there
    arose a perfect Grove of Spires. Some are of
    Opinion, that the Minds of Men take particu-
    lar Turns, at certain Seasons, by the Influence
    of some Planet. Between three and four hun-
    dred Years since the Zeal for Religion was so
    warm, that Men seemed born for no other Em-
    ployment but to build Churches and Chapels;
    for, to omit other Instances, in the single City
    of Rome at this Day, though above half those
    sacred Structures are now ruinate, we see above
    two thousand five hundred Churches still re-
    maining. And now again, what can be the
    Reason, that just at this Time all Italy should
    be fired with a Kind of Emulation to put on
    quite a new Face? How many Towns, which
    when we were Children, were built of nothing

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but Wood, are now lately started up all of
Marble? But to return to the Subject of Tow-
ers. I shall not here stay to repeat what we
read in Herodotus, that in the Middle of the
Temple at Babylon there was a Tower, the
Base whereof was a whole Furlong, or the
eighth Part of a Mile, on every Side, and which
consisted of eight Stories built one above an-
other; a Way of Building which I extremely
commend in Towers, because each Story grow-
ing less and less all the Way up, conduces both
to Strength and Beauty, and by being well knit
one into another, makes the whole Structure
firm. Towers are either square or round, and
in both these the Fleight must answer in a cer-
tain Proportion to the Breadth. When they
are designed to be very taper, square ones
should be six Times as high as they are broad,
and round ones should have four Times the
Fleight of their Diameter. Those which are
intended to be very thick, should have in
Fleight, if square, but four Times their Breadth,
and if round, but three Diameters. The Thick-
ness of the Walls, if they are forty Cubits high.

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PLATE 44. ( Pages 167-68)

“Colonn[a] Toscana” = Tuscan column. “Sei” – six.

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PLATE 45. ( Pages 170-71)

“Pianta dell’ Ordine Dorico” = plan of the Doric order.

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PLATE 46. ( Pages 170-71)

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PLATE 48. ( Pages 170-71)

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PLATE 47. ( Pages 170-71)

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must never be less than four Foot; if fifty Cu-
bits, five Foot; if sixty Cubits, six Foot, and
so on in the same Proportion. These Rules
relate to Towers that are plain and simple:

But some Architects, about halfWay of the
Fleight of the Tower, have adorned it with a
Kind of Portico with insulate Columns, others
have made these Porticoes spiral all the Way
up, others have surrounded it with several Por-
ticoes like so many Coronets, and some have
covered the whole Tower with Figures of Ani-
mals. The Rules for these Colonades are not
different from those for publick Edifices; only
that we may be allowed to be rather more
slender in all the Members, upon Account of
the Weight of the Building. But whoever
would erect a Tower best fitted for resisting
the Injuries of Age, and at the same Time ex-
tremely delightful to behold, let him upon a
square Basis, raise a round Superstructure, and
over that another square one, and so on, ma-
king the Work less and less by Degrees, ac-
cording to the Proportions observed in Co-
lumns. I will here describe one which I think
well worthy Imitation. First from a square
Platsorm rises a Basement in Fleight one tenth
Part of the whole Structure, and in Breadth
one fourth Part of that whole Fleight. Against
this Basement, in the Middle of each Front
stand two Columns, and one at each Angle,
distinguished by their several Ornaments, in the
same Manner as we just now appointed for Se-
pulchres. Over this Basement we raise a square
Superstructure like a little Chapel, in Breadth
twice the Fleight of the Basement, and as high
as broad, against which, we may set three,
four or five Orders of Columns, in the same
Manner as in Temples. Over this, we make
our Rotondas, which may even be three in
Number, and which from the Similitude of

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the several Shoots in a Cane or Rush, we shall
call the Joints. The Height of each of these
Joints shall be equal to its Breadth, with the
Addition of one twelfth Part of that Breadth,
which twelfth Part shall serve as a Basement
to each Joint. The Breadth shall be taken
from that square Chapel which we placed up-
on the first Basement, in the following Man-
ner: Dividing the Front of that square Chapel
into twelve Parts, give eleven of those Parts to
the first Joint; then dividing the Diameter of
this first Joint into twelve Parts, give eleven of
them to the second Joint, and so make the
third Joint a twelfth Part narrower than the
second, and thus the several Joints will have
the Beauty which the best ancient Architects
highly commended in Columns, namely, that
the lower Part of the Shaft should be one sourth
Part thicker than the upper. Round these
Joints we must raise Columns with their proper
Ornaments, in Number not less than eight, nor
more than six: Moreover, in each Joint, as al-
so in the square Chapel, we must open Lights
in convenient Places, and Niches with the Or-
naments suitable to them. The Lights must
not take up above half the Aperture between
Column and Column. The sixth Story in this
Tower, which rises from the third Rotonda
must be a square Structure, and its Breadth and
Height must not be allowed above two third
Parts of that third Rotonda. Its Ornament
must be only square Pilasters set against the
Wall, with Arches turned over them, with
their proper Dress of Capitals, Architraves and
the like, and between Pilaster and Pilaster, half
the Break may be lest open for Passage. The
seventh and last Story shall be a circular Por-
tico of insulate Columns, open for Passage
every Way; the Length of these Columns, with
their Intablature, shall be equal to the Diame-

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1

ter of this Portico itself, and that Diameter
shall be three fourths of the square Building,
on which it stands. This circular Portico shall
be covered with a Cupola. Upon the Angles
of the square Stories in these Towers we should
set Acroteria equal in Height to the Archi-
trave, Freze and Cornice which are beneath
them. In the lowermost square Story, placed
just above the Basement, the open Area within
may be five eighths of the outward Breadth.
Among the ancient Works of this Nature, I
am extremely well pleased with Ptolomey ‘ s
Tower in the Island of Pharos, on the Top of
which, for the Direction of Mariners, he placed
large Fires, which were hung in a continual
Vibration, and kept always moving about from
Place to Place, lest at a Distance those Fires
should be mistaken for Stars; to which he ad-
ded moveable Images, to shew from what Cor-
ner the Wind blew with others, to shew in
what Part of the Heavens the Sun was at that
Time, and the Hour of the Day: Inventions
extremely proper in such a Structure.

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1

CHAP. VI.

Of the principle Ways belonging to the City, and the Methods of adorning the
Haven, Gates, Bridges, Arches, Cross-ways and Squares.

It is now Time to make our Entrance into
the City; but as there are some Ways
both within and without the Town which are
much more eminent than the common Sort,
as those which lead to the Temple, the Basi-
lique, or the Place for publick Spectacles, we
shall first say something of these. We read
that Heliogabalus paved these broader and no-
bler Ways with Macedonian Marble and Por-
phiry. Historians say much in Praise of a noble
Street in Bubastus, a City of /Egypt, which led
to the Temple; for it ran thro’ the Market-
place, and was paved with very fine Stone, was
four Jugera, or four hundred and eighty Foot
broad, and bordered on each Side with stately
Trees. Aristeas tells us, that in Ferusalem
there were some very beautiful Streets, tho’
naiTow, thro’ which the Magistrates and Nobles
only were allowed to pass, to the Intent chiefly
that the sacred Things which they carried,
might not be polluted by the Touch of any
Thing profane. Plato highly celebrates a Way
all planted with Cypress Trees which led from
Gnossus to the Cave and Temple of Fupiter. I
find that the Romans had two Streets of this
Sort, extremely noble and beautiful, one from
the Gate to the Church of St. Paul, fifteen
Stadia, or a Mile and seven Furlongs in Fength,
and the other from the Bridge to the Church
of St. Peter, two thousand five hundred Foot
long, and all covered with a Portico of Co-
lumns of Marble, with a Roof of Fead. Such
Ornaments are extremely proper for Ways of
this Nature. But let us now return to the
more common Highways. The principal Head

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1

and Boundary of all Highways, whether within
or without the City, unless I am mistaken, is
the Gate for those by Land, and the Haven for
those by Sea: Unless we will take notice of
subterraneous Ways, of the Nature of those
which we are told were at Thebes in A Egypt ,
thro’ which their Kings could lead an Army
unknown to any of the Citizens, or those which
I find to have been pretty numerous near Pre-
neste, in the ancient Latium, dug under Ground
from the Top of the Hill to the Level of the
Plain, with wonderful Art; in one of which
we are told, that Marius perished when close
pressed by the Siege. We are told by the
Author of the Life of Apollonius, of a very
wonderful Passage made by a Lady of Media
at Babylon, under the River, and arched with
Stone and Bitumen, thro’ which she could go
dryshod from the Palace to a Country House,
on the other Side of the River. But we are
not obliged to believe all that the Greek Wri-
ters tell us. To return to our Subject. The
Gates are adorned in the same Manner as tri-
umphal Arches, of which anon. The Haven
is adorned by broad Porticoes, raised somewhat
above the Level of the Ground, by a stately
Temple, lofty and beautiful, with spacious
Squares before it, and the Mouth of the Ha-
ven itself by huge Statues, such as were for-
merly to be seen in several Places, and particu-
larly at Rhodes, where Herod is said to have
erected three. Historians very much celebrate
the Mole at Samos, which they say was an
hundred and twenty Foot high, and ran out
two Furlongs into the Sea. Doubtless such
Works must greatly adorn the Haven, especi-
ally if they are masterly wrought, and not of
base Materials. The Streets within the City,
besides being handsomely paved and cleanly
kept, will be rendered much more noble, if

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1

the Doors are built all after the same Model,
and the Houses on each Side stand in an even
Line, and none higher than another. The Parts
of the Street which are principally to be ad-
orned, are these: The Bridge, the Cross-ways,
and the Place for publick Spectactles, which
last is nothing else but an open Place, with

Seats built about it. We will begin with the
Bridge, as being one of the chief Parts of the
Street. The Parts of the Bridge are the Piers,
the Arches and the Pavement, and also the
Street in the Middle for the Passage of Cattle,
and the raised Causeways on each Side for the
better Sort of Citizens, and the Sides or Rail,
and in some Places Houses too, as in that most
noble Bridge called Adrian ‘ s Mole, a Work
never to be forgotten, the very Skeleton where-
of, if I may so call it, I can never behold
without a Sort of Reverence and Awe. It

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1

was covered with a Roof supported by two-
and-forty Columns of Marble, with their Archi-
trave, Freze and Cornice, the Roof plated with
Brass, and richly adorned. The Bridge must be
made as broad as the Street which leads to it.

The Piers must be equal to one another on
each Side both in Number and Size, and be
one third of the Aperture in Thickness. The
Angles or Pleads of the Piers that lie against
the Stream must project in Length half the
Breadth of the Bridge, and be built higher than
the Water ever rises. The Pleads of the Piers
that lie along with the Stream must have the
same Projecture, but then it will not look amiss
to have them less acute, and as it were blunt-
ed. From the Pleads of the Piers on each
Side, it will be very proper to raise Butresses for
the Support of the Bridge, in Thickness not
less than two thirds of the Pier itself. The
Crowns of all the Arches must stand quite clear
above the Water: Their Dress may be taken
from the Ionic or rather the Doric Architrave,
and in large Bridges it must not be less in
Breadth than the fifteenth Part of the whole
Aperture of the Arch. To make the Rail or
Side-wall of the Bridge the stronger, erect Pe-
destals at certain Distances by the Square and
Plum-line, on which, if you please, you may
raise Columns to support a Roof or Portico.

The Pleight of this Side-wall with its Zocle
and Cornice must be four Foot. The Spaces
between the Pedestals may be filled up with a
slight Breast-wall. The Crown both of the
Pedestals and Breast-wall may be an upright
Cymatium, or rather a reversed one, continu-
ed the whole Length of the Bridge, and the
Plinth at Bottom must answer this Cymatium.
The Causeway on each Side for Women and
Foot Passengers must be raised a Foot or two
higher than the Middle of the Bridge, which

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1

being intended chiefly for Beasts of Carriage,
may be paved only with Flints. The Fleight
of the Columns, with their Intablature, must
be equal to the Breadth of the Bridge. The
Crossways and Squares differ only in their Big-
ness, the Crossway being indeed nothing else but
a small Square. Plato ordained that in all Cross-
ways there should be Spaces left for Nurses to
meet in with their Children. His Design in
this Regulation was, I suppose, not only that
the Children might grow strong by being in the
Air, but also that the Nurses themselves, by
seeing one another, might grow neater and
more delicate, and be less liable to Negligence
among so many careful Observers in the same
Business. It is certain, one of the greatest Or-
naments either of a Square, or of a Crossway,
is a handsome Portico, under which the old
Men may spend the Pleat of the Day, or be
mutually serviceable to each other; besides that
the Presence of the Fathers may deter and re-
strain the Youth, who are sporting and divert-
ing themselves in the other Part of the Place,
from the Mischievousness and Folly natural to
their Age. The Squares must be so many dif—
serent Markets, one for Gold and Silver, an-
other for Flerbs, another for Cattle, another for
Wood, and so on; each whereof ought to have
its particular Place in the City, and its distinct
Ornaments; but that where the Traffick of
Gold and Silver is to be earned on, ought to
be much the Noblest? The Greeks made their
Forums or Markets exactly square, and encom-
passed them with large double Porticoes, which
they adorned with Columns and their Intabla-
tures, all of Stone, with noble Terrasses at the
Top, for taking the Air upon. Among our
Countrymen the Italians , the Forums used to
be a third Paid longer than they were broad:

And because in ancient Times they were the

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1

Places where the Shows of the Gladiators were
exhibited, the Columns in the Porticoes were
set at a greater Distance from each other, that
they might not obstruct the Sight of those Di-
versions. In the Porticoes were the Shows for
the Goldsmiths, and over the first Story were
Galleries projecting out for seeing the Shows
in, and the publick Magazines. This was the

Method among the Ancients. For my Part I
would have a Square twice as long as broad,
and that the Porticoes and other Buildings about
it should answer in some Proportion to the open
Area in the Middle, that it may not seem too
large, by means of the Lowness of the Build-
ings, nor too small, from their being too high.

A proper Fleight for the Buildings about a
Square is one third of the Breadth of the open
Area, or one sixth at the least. I would also
have the Porticoes raised above the Level of
the Ground, one fifth Part of their Breadth,
and that their Breadth should be equal to half
the Fleight of their Columns, including the
Intablature. The Proportions of the Columns
should be taken from those of the Basilique,
only with this Difference, that here the Archi-
trave, Freze and Cornice together should be
one fifth of the Column in Fleight. If you
would make a second Row of Columns over
this first, those Columns should be one fourth
Part thinner and shorter than those below, and

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1

for a Basement to them you must make a
Plinth half the Height of the Basement at the
Bottom. But nothing can be a greater Orna-
ment either to Squares or the Meeting of seve-
ral Streets, than Arches at the Entrance of the
Streets; an Arch being indeed nothing else but
a Gate standing continually open. I am of
Opinion, that the Invention of Arches were
owing to those that first enlarged the Bounds
of the Empire: For it was the ancient Custom
with such, as we arc informed by Tacitus , to
enlarge the Pomoerium, or vacant Space left
next the City Walls, as we find particularly
that Claudius did. Now though they extend-
ed the Limits of the City, yet they thought it
proper to preserve the old Gates, for several
Reasons, and particularly because they might
some Time or other happen to be a Safeguard
against the Irruption of an Enemy. Afterwards
as these Gates stood in the most conspicuous
Places, they adorned them with the Spoils
which they had won from their Enemies, and
the Ensigns of their Victories. To these Be-
ginnings it was that Arches owed their Tro-
phies, Inscriptions, Statues and Relieves. A
very proper Situation for an Arch is where a
Street joins into a Square, and especially in the
Royal Street, by which Name I understand the

most eminent in the City. An Arch, like a
Bridge, should have no less than three open
Passages: That in the Middle for the Soldiers
to return through in Triumph to pay their
Devotions to their paternal Gods, and the two
Side ones for the Matrons and Citizens to go
out to meet and welcome them Home. When
you build one of these Triumphal Arches, let
the Line of the Platform which runs length-
ways with the Street be the Half of the Line
that goes cross the Street from Right to Left,

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1

and the Length of this Cross-line should never
be less than fifty Cubits. This Kind of Struc-
tures is very like that of a Bridge, only it never
consists of more than four Piers and three
Arches. Of the shortest Line of the Platform
which runs lengthways with the Street, leaves
one eighth Paid towards the Square, and as
much behind on the other Side, for the Plat-
forms of Columns to be erected against the
Piers. The other longer Line which crosses the
Street must also be divided into eight Parts,
two whereof must be given to the Aperture in
the Middle, and one to each Pier and to each
Side opening. The perpendicular Upright of
the Piers that support the middle Arch, to the
Spring of that Arch, must be two of the afore-
said Parts and a Third; and the Piers of the
two Side Arches must bear the same Proporti-
on to their respective Aperture. The Soffit of
the Arches must be persect Vaults. The
Crowns of the Piers beneath the Spring of the
Arch, may be made in Imitation of the Doric
Capital, only instead of the Ovolo and Abacus
they may have a projecting Cornice either Co-
rinthian or Ionic, and beneath the Cornice by
Way of Gorgerine, a plain Freze, and below
that an Astragal and a Fillet like those at the
Top of the Shaft of a Column. All these Or-
naments together should take up the ninth Paid
of the Fleight of the Pier. This ninth Part
must be again subdivided into nine smaller Parts,
five whereof must be given to the Cornice,
three to the Freze, and one to the Astragal
and Fillet. The Architrave or Face of the
Arch that turns from Pier to Pier must never
be broader than the tenth Part of its Aperture,
nor narrower than the twelfth. The Columns
that are placed in Front against the Piers must
be regular and insulate; they must be so raised
that the Top of their Shafts may be equal to

579

1

the Top of the Arch, and their Length must
be equal to the Breadth of the middle Aper-
ture. These Columns must have their Bases,
Plinths and Pedestals as also their Capitals,
either Corinthian or Composite together with
Architrave, Freze and Cornice, either Ionic or
Corinthian, according to the Proportions al-
ready prescribed for those several Members.
Above these Columns must be a plain Wall,
half as high as the whole Substructure from
the lowest Basement to the Top of the Cornice,
and the Fleight of this additional Wall must
be divided into eleven Parts, one of which must
be given to a plain Cornice at the Top, with-
out either Freze or Architrave, and one and an
Flalf to a Basement with a reversed Cymatium
which must take up one third of the Fleight of
that Basement. The Statues must be placed
directly over the Intablature of the Columns,
upon little Pedestals whose Fleight must be
equal to the Thickness of the Top of the Shast
of the Columns. The Fleight of the Statues
with their Pedestals must be eight of the eleven
Parts to which we divided the upper Wall. At
the Top of the whole Structure, especially to-
wards the Square, must be placed larger Sta-
tues, triumphal Cars, Animals and other Tro-
phies. The Base for these to stand upon, must
be a Plinth three Times as high as the Cor-
nice, which is immediately below it. These
larger Statues which we thus place uppermost,

580

PLATE 49. (Pages 172-73)

” Super [ficie] dell Ac qua” = surface of the water.

1

PLATE 50. f Page 173)

582

1

PLATE 51. (Page 173)

583

1

PLATE 53. ( Pages 174-75)

Inscription: “To Great Britain, which holds the destinies of Europe in even balance.

584

1

PLATE 52. ( Pages 174-75)

585

1

must in Height exceed those which stand be-
low them over the Columns, not less than a
sixth Part, nor more than two ninths. In con-
venient Places in the Front of the upper Wall
we may cut Inscriptions or Stories in Relieve,
in square or round Pannels. Beneath the Vault
of the Arch the upper half of the Wall, upon
which the Arch turns, is extremely proper for
Stories in Relieve, but the lower Half being
exposed to be spattered with Dirt, is very un-
fit for such Ornaments. For a Basement to
the Piers we may make a Plinth not more than
a Cubit and an Half high, and that its Angle
may not be broke by the Brush of Wheels, we
may carry it off into a Cima-reversa, which
must take up one fourth of the Height of the
Basement itself.

CHAP. VII.

Of the adorning Theatres and other Places for publick Shows, and of their
Usefulness.

We come now to Places for publick
Shows. We are told that Epimenides,
the same that slept fifty-seven Years in a Cave;
when the Athenians were building a Place for
publick Shows reproved them, telling them, you
know not how much Mischief this Place shall
occasion; if you did, you would pull it to
Pieces with your Teeth. Neither dare I pre-
sume to find Fault with our Pontiffs, and those
whose Business it is to set good Examples to
others, for having, with good Cause no doubt,
abolished the Use of publick Shows. Yet Moses
was commended for ordaining, that all his Peo-
ple should upon certain solemn Days meet to-
gether in one Temple, and celebrate publick
Festivals at stated Seasons. What may we sup-
pose his View to have been in this Institution?

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1

Doubtless he hoped the People, by thus meet-
ing frequently together at publick Feasts, might
grow more humane, and be the closer linked
in Friendship one with another. Sol imagine
our Ancestors instituted publick Shows in the
City, not so much for the Sake of the Diversi-
ons themselves, as for their Usefulness. And
indeed if we examine the Matter thoroughly,
we shall find many Reasons to grieve that so
excellent and so useful an Entertainment should
have been so long disused: For as of these
publick Diversions some were contrived for the
Delight and Amusement of Peace and Leisure,
others for an Exercise of War and Business;
the one served wonderfully to revive and keep
up the Vigour and Fil e of the Mind, and the
other to improve the Strength and Intrepidity
of the Heart. It is indeed true that some cer-
tain and constant Medium should be observed,
in order to make these Entertainments useful
and ornamental to a Country. The Arcadi-
ans, we are told, were the first that invented
publick Games, to civilize and polish the Minds
of their People, who had been too much ac-
customed to a hard and severe Way of Life;
and Polybius writes, that those who afterwards
left off those Entertainments, grew so barbarous
and cruel, that they became execrable to all
Greece. But indeed the Memory of publick
Games is extremely ancient, and the Invention
of them is ascribed to various Persons. Dionysi-
us is said to have been the first Inventor of
Dances and Sports, as Hercules was of the Di-
version of the Combate. We read that the
Olympick Games were invented by the Ita-
lians and the Eleans, after their return from the
Siege of Troy. We are told, that Dionysius of
Lemnos, who was the Inventor of the Chorus
in Tragedies, was also the first that built a
Place on purpose for publick Shows. In Italy,

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1

Lucius Mummius , upon Occasion of his Tri-
umph, first introduced theatrical Entertain-
ments two hundred Years before the Em-
peror Nero’ s Time, and the Actors were
brought to Rome from Etruria. Horse-Races
were brought from the Tyrians , and almost the
whole Variety of publick Diversions came to
Italy from Asia. I am inclined to believe that
the ancient Race of Men, that first began to
cut the Figure of Janus upon their brazen
Coins, were content to stand to see these Sort
of Games under some Beech or Elm, according
to those Verses of Ovid, speaking of Romulus’ s
Show.

His Play-house, not of Parian Marble made,

Nor was it spread with purple Sails for shade.

The Stage with Rushes or with Leaves they strew’ d:
No Scenes in Prospect, no machining God.

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1

On Rows of homely Turf they sat to see,

Crown’ d with the Wreaths of every common Tree.

DRYDEN’ S Translation.

HOWEVER, we read that Jolaus, the Son of
Iphiclus, first contrived Seats for the Spectators
in Sardinia, when he received the Thespiad
from Hercules. But at first Theatres were
built only of Wood; and we find that Pompey
was blamed for having made the Seats fixed
and not moveable, as they used to be anciently:

But Diversions of this Nature were afterwards
carried to such a Height, that there were no
less than three vast Theatres within the City of
Rome, besides several Amphitheatres, one of
which was so large that it would hold above
two hundred thousand Persons, besides the Cir-
cus Maximus: All which were built of square
Stone and adorned with Columns of Marble.

Nay, not content with all these, they erected
Theatres, only for temporary Entertainments,
prodigiously enriched with Marble, Glass, and
great Numbers of Statues. The noblest Struc-
ture in those Days, and the most capacious,
which was at Placentia, a Town in Lombardy,
was burnt in the Time of Octavianus’ s War.

But we shall dwell no longer upon this ancient
Magnificence. Of publick Shows, some are
proper to Peace and Leisure, others to War and
Business. Those proper to Leisure, belong to
the Poets, Musicians and Actors: Those pro-
per to War, are Wrestling, Boxing, Fencing,

Shooting, Running, and every Thing else re-
lating to the Exercise of Arms. Plato ordained
that Shows of this last Nature should be exhi-
bited every Year, as highly tending to the
Welfare and Ornament of a City. These Di-
versions required various Buildings, which there-
fore have been called by various Names. Those

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1

designed for the Use of the Poets, Comick,
Tragick and the like, are called Theatres by
way of Excellence. The Place where the no-
ble Youth exercised themselves in driving Races
in Chariots with two or four Horses, was called
the Circus. That lastly, where wild Beast
were enclosed and baited, was called an Am-
phitheatre. Almost all the Structures for these
different Sorts of Shows were built in Imitation
of the Figure of an Army drawn up in Order
of Battle, with its two Horns or Wings pro-
tending forwards, and consisted of an Area
wherein the Actors, or Combatants, or Chari-
ots are to exhibit the Spectacle, and of Rows
of Seats around for the Spectators to sit on:

But then they differ as to the Form of the afore-
said Area; for those which have this Area in
the Shape of a Moon in its Decrease are called
Theatres, but when the Horns are protracted
a great Way forwards, they are called Circusses,
because in them the Chariots make a Circle
about the Goal. Some tell us, that the Anci-
ents used to celebrate Games of this Kind in
Rings between Rivers and Swords ( interenses &
flumina ) and that therefore they were called
Cir censes, and that the Inventor of these Di-
versions was one Monagus at Elis in Asia. The
Area inclosed between the Fronts of two Thea-
tres joined together was called Cavea, or the
Pit, and the whole Edifice an Amphitheatre.

The Situation of a Building for publick Shows
ought particularly to be chosen in a good Air,
that the Spectators may not be incommoded
either by Wind, Sun, or any of the other In-
conveniences mentioned in the first Book, and
the Theatre ought in an especial Manner to
be sheltered from the Sun, because it is in the
Month of August chiefly, as Horace observes,
that the People are fond of the Recitals of the
Poets, and the lighter Recreations: And if the

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1

Rays of the Sun beat in, and were confined
within any Part of the Theatre, the excessive
Heat might be apt to throw the Spectators into
Distempers. The Place ought also to be pro-
per for Sound, and it is very convenient to have
Porticoes, either adjoining to the Theatre, or
at an easy Distance from it, for People to shel-
ter themselves under from sudden Rains and
Storms. Plato was for having the Theatre
within the City, and the Circus somewhere out
of it. The Parts of the ancient Theatres were
as follows: The Area or open Space in the
Middle, which was quite uncovered; about
this Area, the Rows of Seats for the Specta-
tors, and opposite to them the raised Floor or
Stage for the Actors, and the Decorations pro-
per to the Representation, and at the Top of
all, Colonades and Arches to receive the Actor’ s
Voice, and make it more sonorous. But the
Greek Theatres differed from those of the Ro-
mans in this Particular, that the Greeks brought
their Choruses and Actors within the Area,
and by that Means had Occasion for a smaller
Stage, whereas the Romans having the whole
Performance upon the Pulpitum, or Stage, be-
yond the Semicircle of the Seats, were obliged
to make their Stage much larger. In this they
all agreed, that at first in marking out the Plat-
form for the Theatre, they made use of a Se-
micircle, only drawing out the Horns some-
what farther than to be exactly semicircular,

591

1

with a Line which some made strait, others
curve. Those who extended them with Strait-
lines, drew them out beyond the Semicircle,
parallel to each other, to the Addition of one
fourth Part of the Diameter: But those who
extended them with Curve-lines, first mark’ d
out a compleat Circle, and then taking off one
fourth Part of its Circumference, the Remain-
der was left for the Platform of the Theatre.
The Limits of the Area being marked out and
fixed, the next Work was to raise the Seats;
and the first Thing to be done in order to this,
was to resolve how high the Seats should be,
and from their Height to calculate how much
of the Platform they must take up. Most
Architects made the Height of the Theatre
equal to the Area in the Middle, knowing that
in low Theatres the Voice was sunk and lost,
but made stronger and clearer in high ones.
Some of the best Artists made the Height of
the Building to be four fifths of the Breadth
of the Area. Of this whole Height the Seats
never took up less than half, nor more than
two thirds, and their Breadth was sometimes
equal to their Height, and sometimes only two
fifths of it. I shall here describe one of these
Structures which I think the most compleat
and perfect of any. The outermost Founda-
tions of the Seats, or rather of the Wall against
which the highest Seat must terminate, must
be laid distant from the Center of the Semi-
circle one whole Semidiameter of the Area,
with the Addition of a third. The first or
lowest Seat must not be upon the very Level
of the Area, but be raised upon a Wall, which
in the larger Theatres must be in Height the
ninth Part of the Semidiameter of the middle
Area, from the Top of which Wall the Seats
must take their first Flight: And in the smallest
Theatres, this Wall must never be less than

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seven Foot high. The Benches themselves
must be a Foot and an half high, and two
and an half broad. Among these Seats, Spaces
must be left at certain Distances for Passages
into the middle Area, and for Stairs to go up
from thence to those Seats, which Stair-cases
and Passages should be with vaulted Roofs,
and in Number proportionable to the Bigness
of the Theatre. Of these Passages there should
be seven principal ones, all directed exactly to
the Center of the Area, and perfectly clear
and open, at equal Distances from each other;
and of these seven, one should be hu ger than
the rest, answering to the middle of the Semi-
circle, which I call the Master Entrance, be-
cause it must answer to the high Street. An-
other Passage must be made at the Plead of
the Semicircle on the Right Fland, and so an-
other on the Lest to answer it, and between
these and the Master Entrance four others, two
on each Side. There may be as many other
Openings and Passages as the Compass of the
Theatre requires, and will admit of. The
Ancients in their great Theatres divided the
Rows of Seats into three Parts, and each of
these Divisions was distinguished from the other
by a Seat twice as broad as the others, which
was a Kind of Landing-place, separating the
higher Seats from the lower; and at these
Landing-places, the Stairs for coming up to
the several Seats terminated. I have observed,
that the best Architects, and the most inge-
nious Contrivers used at each great Entrance
to make two different Stairs, one more upright
and direct, for the Young and the Nimble,
and another broader and easier, with more fre-
quent Rests, for the Matrons and old People.

This may suffice as to the Seats. Opposite to
the Lront of the Theatre was raised the Stage
for the Actors, and every thing belonging to

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1

the Representation, and here sate the Nobles
in peculiar and honourable Seats, separate from
the common People, or perhaps in the middle
Area in handsome Places erected for that Pur-
pose. The Pulpitum or Stage, was made so
large as to be fully sufficient for every thing
that was to be acted upon it. It came forward
equal to the Center of the Semicircle, and was
raised in Height not above five Foot, that the
Nobles who sate in the Area might from thence
easily see every Gesture of the Actors. But
when the middle Area was not reserved for the
Nobles to sit in, but was allowed to the Actors
and Musicians: Then the Stage was made less,
but raised higher, sometimes to the Height of
six Cubits. In both Kinds the Stage was adorn-
ed with Rows of Colonades one over another,
in Imitation of Houses, with their proper Doors
and Windows, and in Front was one principal
Door with all the Dress of the Door of a
Temple, to represent a Royal Palace, with
other Doors on each Side for the Actors to
make their Entrances and Exits at, according
to the Nature of the Drama. And as there
are three Sorts of Poets concerned in theatrical
Performances, the Tragick, who describe the
Misfortunes and Distresses of Princes; the Co-
rnick who represent the Lives and Manners of
private Persons, and the Pastoral, who sing the
Delights of the Country, and the Loves of

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Shepherds: There was a Contrivance upon the
Stage of a Machine which turning upon a Pin,
in an Instant changed the Scene to a Palace
for Tragedy, an ordinary House for Comedy,
or a Grove for Pastoral, as the Nature of the
Fable required. Such was the Manner of the
Middle, Area, Seats and Stage, Passages and
the like. I have already said in this Chapter,
that one of the principal Parts of the Theatre
was the Portico, which was designed for ren-
dering the Sound of the Voice stronger and
clearer. This was placed upon the highest
Seat, and the Front of its Colonade looked to
the middle Area of the Theatre. Of this we
are now to give some Account.

THE Ancients had learnt from the Philoso-
phers, that the Air, by the Percussion of the
Voice, and the Force of Sound, was put into a
circular Motion, in the same Manner as Water
is when any thing is suddenly plunged into it,
and that, as for Instance, in a Lute, or in a
Valley, between two Hills, especially if the
Place be woody, the Sound and Voice are ren-
dered much more clear and strong, because the
swelling Circles of the Air meet with some-
thing which beats back the Rays of the Voice
that issue from the Center, in the same Man-
ner as a Ball is beat back from a Wall against
which it is thrown, by which means those Cir-
cles are made closer and stronger: For this
Reason the Ancients built their Theatres cir-
cular” and that the Voice might meet with no
Obstacle to stop its free Ascent to the very
highest Part of the Theatre, they placed their
Seats in such a Manner, that all the Angles of
them lay in one exact Line, and upon the
highest Seat, which was no small Help, they
raised Porticoes facing the middle Area of the
Theatre, the Lront of which Porticoes were as

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open and free as possible, but the Back of them
was entirely shut up with a continued Wall.
Under this Portico they raised a low Wall,
which not only served for a Pedestal to the
Columns, but also helped to collect the swelling
Orbs of the Voice, and to throw it gently into
the Portico itself, where being received into a
thicker Air, it was not reverberated from thence
too violently, but returned clear and a little
more strengthened. And over all this, as a
Cieling to the Theatre, both to keep off the
Weather, and to retain the Voice, they spread
a Sail all strewed over with Stars, which they
could remove at Pleasure, and which shaded
the middle Area, the Seats, and all the Specta-
tors. The upper Portico was built with a
great deal of Art; for in order to support it,
there were other Porticoes and Colonades at
the Back of the Theatre, out to the Street, and
in the larger Theatres, these Porticoes were
made double, that if any violent Rain or Storm
obliged the Spectators to fly for Shelter, it
might not drive in upon them. These Porti-
coes and Colonades, thus placed under the up-
per Portico, were not like those which we have
described for Temples or Basiliques, but built
of strong Pilasters, and in Imitation of tri-
umphal Arches. We shall first therefore treat
of these under Porticoes, as being built for the
Sake of that above. The Rule for the Aper-
tures of these Porticoes is, that to every Passage
into the middle Area of the Theatre, there
ought to be one of them, and each of these
Apertures should be accompanied with others
in certain Proportions, answering exactly one to
the other in Height, Breadth, Design and Or-
naments. The Breadth of the Area for walk-
ing in these Porticoes, should be equal to the
Aperture between Pilaster and Pilaster, and the
Breadth of each Pilaster should be equal to half

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1

that Aperture: All which Rules must be ob-
served with the greatest Care and Exactness.
Lastly, against these Pilasters we must not set
Columns entirely insulate, as in triumphal
Arches, but only three quarter Columns with
Pedestals under them, in Height one sixth of
the Column itself. The other Ornaments must
be the same as those in Temples. The Height
of these three quarter Columns, with their
whole Entablature, must be equal to half the
perpendicular Height of the Seats within, so
that on the Outside there must be two Orders
of Columns one over the other, the second of
which must be just even with the Top of those
Seats, and over this we must lay the Pavement
for the upper Portico, which as we shewed be-
fore, must look into the middle Area of the
Theatre, in Shape resembling a Horse-shoe.
This Substructure being laid, we are to raise
our upper Portico, the Front and Colonade
whereof is not to receive its Light from with-
out, like those before described, but is to be
open to the Middle of the Theatre, as we have
already observed. This Work being raised in
order to prevent the Voice from being lost and
dispersed, may be called the Circumvallation.
Its Height should be the whole Height of the
outer Portico, with the Addition of one half,
and its Parts are these. The low Wall under
the Columns, which we may call a continued
Pedestal. This Wall of the whole Height of

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1

the Circumvallation, from the upper Seat to
the Top of the Entablature, must in great
Theatres be allowed never more than a Third,
and in small ones, not less than a Fourth. Up-
on this continued Pedestal stand the Columns
which with their Bases and Capitals must be
equal to half the Height of the whole Circum-
vallation. Over these Columns lies their En-
tablature, and over all a Plain Wall, such as we
described in Basiliques, which Wall must be
allowed the sixth remaining Part of the Height
of the Circumvallation. The Columns in this
Circumvallation shall be insulate, raised aster
the same Proportions as those in the Basiliques,
and in Number just answering to those of the
three quarter Columns set against the Pilasters
of the outward Portico, and they shall be
placed exactly in the same Rays, by which
Name I understand Lines drawn from the Cen-
ter of the Theatre to the outward Columns.

In the low Wall, or continued Pedestal, set
under the Columns of the inner Portico, must
be certain Openings, just over the Passages be-
low into the Theatre, which Openings must
be in the Nature of Niches, wherein, if you
think fit, you may place a Sort of Vases of
Brass, hung with their Mouths downwards,
that the Voice reverberating in them, may be
returned more sonorous. I shall not here waste
Time in considering those Instructions in Vi-
truvius, which he borrows from the Precepts
of Composition in Musick, according to the
Rules of which he is for placing the just men-
tioned Vases in Theatres, so as to correspond
with the differerent Pitches of the several
Voices: A Curiosity easily talked of, but how
it is to be executed, let those inform us, who
know. Thus much I must readily assent to,
and Aristotle himself is of the Opinion, that
hollow Vessels of any Sort, and Wells too, are

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1

of Service in strengthening the Sound of the
Voice. But to return to the Portico on the
Inside of the Theatre. The back Wall of this
Portico must be quite close and entire, and so
shut in the whole Circumvallation, that the
Voice arriving there, may not be lost. On the
Outside of the Wall to the Street, we may ap-
ply Columns as Ornaments, in Number,

Height, Proportions and Members, exactly an-
swering to those in the Porticoes under them,
in the outward Front of the Theatre. From
what has been said, it is easy to collect in what
Particulars the greater Theatres differ from the
smaller. In the greater, the outward Portico
below is double, in the smaller single: In the
former, there may be three Orders of Columns,
one over the other; in the latter, not more
than two. They also differ in this, that some
small Theatres have no Portico at all on the
Inside, but for their Circumvallation, have on-
ly a plain Wall and a Cornice, which is in-
tended for the same Puipose of returning the
Voice, as the Portico in great Theatres, and
in some of the largest Theatres, even this in-
ward Portico is double. Lastly, the outward
Covering of the Theatre must be well plaister-
ed or coated, and made so sloping that the
Water may run into Pipes placed in the Angles
of the Building, which must carry it off private-
ly into proper Drains. Upon the upper Cor-
nice on the Outside of the Theatre, Mutules
and Stays must be contrived to support Poles,
like the Masts of Ships to which to fasten the
Ropes for spreading the Vela or Covering of
the Theatre upon any extraordinary Represen-
tation. And as we are to raise so great a Pile
of Building to a just Height, the Wall ought to
be allowed a due Thickness for the supporting
such a Weight. Let the Thickness therefore
of the outward Wall of the first Colonade be a

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1

fifteenth Part of the Height of the whole Struc-
ture. The middle Wall between the two Por-
ticoes, when these are double, must want one
fourth Part of the Thickness of the outward
one. The next Story raised above this may be
a twelfth Part thinner than the lower one.

CHAP. VIII.

Of the Ornaments of the Amphitheatre, Circus, publick Walks, and Halls,
and Courts for petty Judges.

Having said thus much of Theatres,
it is necessary to give some Account
of the Circus and Amphitheatre which all owe
their Original to the Theatre, for the Circus is
indeed nothing else but a Theatre with its
Horns stretched further on in Lines equi-dis-
tant one from the other, only that the Nature
of this Building does not require Portices; and

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the Amphitheatre is formed of two Theatres
with their Horns joined together, and the
Rows of Seats continued quite round; and
the chief Difference between them is, that a
Theatre is properly an half Amphitheatre,
with this further Variation too, that the Am-
phitheatre has its middle Area quite clear from
any Thing of a Stage or Scenes; but in all
other respects, and particularly in the Seats,
Porticoes, Entrances and the like, they exactly

agree. I am inclined to believe, that the Am-
phitheatre was at first contrived chiefly for
Hunting, and that for this Reason it was made
round, to the Intent that the wild Beasts
which were enclosed and baited in it, not
having any Nook or Corner to fly to, might
be the sooner obliged to defend themselves
against their Assailants, who were extremely
bold and dextrous at engaging with the fier-
cest wild Beasts. Some armed only with a
Javelin, would with the Help of that leap
over a wild Bull that was making at him full
Speed, and so elude his Blow. Others having
put on a Kind of Armour, composed of no-
thing but thick Thoms and Prickles, would
suffer themselves to be rowled about and
mumbled by a Bear. Others enclosed in a
Kind of wooden Cage, teazed and provoked a
Lion, and fome with nothing but a Cloak
about their left Arm, and a small Ax or Mal-
let in their right Hand would attack him
openly. In a Word, if any Man had either
Dexterity to deceive, or Courage and Strength
to cope with wild Beasts, he offered himself as
a Champion, either merely for the Sake of Ho-
nour, or for Reward. We read too, that both
in the Theatres and Amphitheatres, the great
Men used to throw Apples, or let fly little Birds
among the Mob, for the Pleasure of seeing

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1

them scramble for them. The middle Area
of the Amphitheatre, though it is surrounded
by two Theatres joined together, yet must not
be made solong as two compleat Theatres would
make it, if their Horns both pretended to meet
each other: But its Length must bear a cer-
tain Proportion to its Breadth. Some among
the Ancients made the Length eight, and the
Breadth seven Parts, and some made the
Breadth three fourths of the Length. In other
Particulars it agrees with the Theatre: It must
have Porticoes on the Outside, and one at the
Top within, over the highest Seat, which we

have called the Circumvallation. We are next
to treat of the Circus. Some tell us, that this
was built in Imitation of the heavenly Bodies;
for as the Heavens have twelve Houses, so the
Circus has twelve Gates for Entrance; and as
there are seven Planets, so this has seven Goals,
lying from East to West at a good Distance one
from the other, that through them the con-
tending Chariots may hold their Course, as the
Sun and Moon do through the Zodiac; which
they did four-and-twenty Times, in Imitati-
on of the four-and-twenty Hours. The Con-
currents were also divided into four Squadrons,
each of which was distinguished by its particu-
lar Colour; the one was cloathed in Green, in
Representation of the verdant Spring; another
to denote the flaming Summer in Red; the
third in White, in Imitation of the pale Au-
tumn; and the fourth in dusky Brown for the
gloomy Winter. The middle Area of the Cir-
cus was neither clear nor open like the Am-
phitheatre, nor taken up with a Stage like the
Theatre, but it was divided Lengthways into
two Courses by the Goals or Terms which
were set up at proper Distances, about which
the Horses or Men performed their Races. Of

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these Goals there were three principal ones,
whereof the Middlemost was the chief of all,
and this was a Pile of Stone tapering up to the
Top, upon account of which regular Diminu-
tion, it was called an Obelisk. The other two
principal Goals were either colossal Statues, or
lofty Piles of Stones in the Nature of Trophies,
designed aster the Workman’ s Fancy, so as
they were only great and beautisul. Between
these principal Goals were two others on each
Side, either Columns or Obelisks less than the
former, which made up the Number of Seven.
We read in Flistorians, that the Circus Maxi-
mus at Rome was three Furlongs in Length,
and one in Breadth. Now indeed it is entire-
ly destroyed, and there are not the least Foot-
steps remaining by which we can form a Judg-
ment of its ancient Structure: But by an actual
Survey of other Works of this Nature I find the
Manner of them was as follows: The Anci-
ents used to make the middle Area of the Cir-
cus in Breadth at least threescore Cubits, or
ninety Foot, and in Length seven Times that
Breadth. The Breadth was divided into two
equal Parts or Courses by a Line drawn the
Length of the Circus, on which Line the Goals
or Terms were placed according to the follow-
ing Method: The whole Length being divided
into seven Parts, one of those Parts was given
to a Sweep at each End for the Concurrents to
turn out of the right Course into the left, and
the Remainder was allowed for the Goals, which

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PLATE 54. (Page 180)

“Pianta dell’ Anfiteatro” = plan of the amphitheater.

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1

PLATE 56. ( Page 180)

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1

PLATE 55. ( Page 180)

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1

PLATE 57. ( Page 180)

607

1

PLATE 58. ( Page 181)

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1

standing at equal Distances from each other,
took up the other sive sevenths of the whole
Length of the Circus. One Goal was joined to
the other by a Kind of Breast-wall which was
never less than six Foot high, to keep the
Florses that were running from crossing out of
one Course into the other. On each Side of
the Circus were Seats raised to the Height of
never more than the fifth, nor less than the
sixth of the whole Breadth of the middle Area;
and these Seats began from a Basement, as in
Amphitheatres, that the Spectators might not
be within reach of any Hurt from the Beasts.
Among publick Works we may reckon those
publick Walks, in which the Youth exercise
themselves at Tennis, Leaping, or the Use of
Arms, and where the old Men walk to take
the Air, or if they are infirm, are carried about
for the Recovery of their Health. Celsus, the
Physician, says, that Exercise is much better
in the open Air, than under Cover; but that
they might exercise themselves more comrno-
diously even in the Shade, they added Porti-
coes which enclosed the whole Square. The
Square itself was sometimes paved with Marble
and Mosaick Work, and sometimes turfed with
Grass, and planted with Myrtles, Juniper,

Cypress and Cedar Trees. The Porticoes on
three Sides were single, and so large, that their
Proportion was two ninth Parts greater than
that of the Forum before treated of in this
Book; but on the fourth Side, which fronted
the South, the Portico was yet more spacious,
and double. In Froat it had Doric Columns,
whose Height was equal to the Breadth of the
Portico; the Columns behind, which divided
the inner Portico from the outward, were
higher than the former one fifth Part, for sup-
porting the Cover, and giving a Slope to the

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1

Roof; and for this Reason they made them of
the Ionic Order, Ionic Columns being in their
very Nature taller than the Doric: Though I
cannot see why the Cieling of these Porticoes
should not have been exactly level, which cer-
tainly must have been more beautisul to the
Eye. In both these Colonades, the Diameters
of the Columns were as follows: In the Do-
ric, the lower Diameter of the Shaft was two
fifteenths of the whole Height, including the
Base and Capital; but in the Ionic and Corin-
thian, the lower Diameter of the Shaft was
three sixteenths of the Length of only the Shaft
of the Column. In other Respects they were
the same as those used in Temples. To the
back Walls of these Porticoes, they added hand-
some Walls or Rooms, where Philosophers and
Men of Knowledge might converse and dis-
pute upon the noblest Subjects; and of these
Rooms, some were proper for Winter, and
others for Summer. Those which lay any
thing to the North, were for Summer, as
those to the South, and which were not ex-
posed to any shaip Winds, were for Winter;
besides that those for Winter were shut in with
entire Walls, whereas those for Summer were
full of Windows, or rather were separated only
by a Colonade, and had an open View to-
wards the North, with Prospects of Sea, Hills,
Lakes, or some other agreeable Landskip, and
admitted as much Light as possible. The Por-
ticoes on the Right and Left of these Squares,
had the same Sort of back Rooms, shut in
from Winds, but open to the Morning and to
the Evening Sun, which shone in upon them
from the middle Area. The Plan of these
retiring Rooms was various, sometimes they
were semicircular, sometimes rectangular, but
always in a due Proportion to the Square itself,
and to the Porticoes which encompassed it

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1

it. The Breadth of the whole Square with its
Porticoes, was half its Length, and this Breadth
was divided into eight Parts, six whereof were
given to the open Square, and one to each
Portico. When the back retiring Rooms were
semicircular, their Diameter was two fifths of
the open Area. In the back Wall of the Por-
ticoes, were the Apertures for Entrance, and
for Light into those Rooms. The Height of
the semicircular Retirements, in the greatest
Proportion, was only equal to their Breadth;
but in smaller Works, it was one fifth Part
more. Over the Top of the Roof of the Por-
tico, Openings were broke for the Admission
of a stronger and more chearful Light into the
Room. If these Withdrawing-rooms were square,
then their Breadth was twice the Breadth of the
Porticoes, and their Length twice their own
Breadth. That I call Length which runs along
with the Portico, so that upon entering into those
Rooms from the Right, their Length lies to the
Left, and entering them from the Left, to the
Right. Among publick Works, we are also to in-
clude the Portico for the inferior Judges, which
the Ancients used to build after the following
Manner: Their Bigness was according to the
Dignity of the City, but rather too large than
too small, and along them was a Row of
Chamters, contiguous to each other, where
petty Contests were heard and determined.

Those Works which I have hitherto described

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1

seem to be truly publick, as they are designed
for the Use of all the People in general, both
noble and vulgar: But there are still some other
Works of a publick Nature, which are for the
Use only of the principal Citizens, and of the
Magistrates; as for Instance, the Senate-house
and Council-chambers, whereof we are now
to give some Account.

  • CHAP. IX.

Of the proper Ornaments for the Senate-house and Council-chambers, as also of
the adorning the City with Groves, Lakes for Swimming, Libraries, Schools,
publick Stables, Arsenals and Mathematical Instruments.

Plato appointed the Council to be held
in a Temple, and the Romans had a de-
termined Place for that Puipose, which they
called their Comitium. At Ceraunia there
was a thick Grove, consecrated to Jupi-
ter, in which the Greeks used to meet to con-
sult about the Affairs of their State, and many
other Cities used to hold their Councils in the
Middle of the publick Forum. It was not
lawful for the Roman Senate to meet in any
Place that was not appointed by Augury, and

they commonly chose some Temple. After-
wards they erected Curice, or Courts for that
particular Puipose, and Varro tells us, that
these were of two Sorts: One in which the
Priests consulted about religious Matters; the
other where the Senate regulated secular Affairs.

Of the peculiar Properties of each of these I can
find nothing certain; unless we may be allow-
ed to conjecture, that the former had some Re-
semblance to a Temple, the latter to a Basili-
que. The Priests Court therefore may have a

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1

vaulted Roof, and that of the Senators a flat
one. In both, the Members of the Council are
to declare their Opinion, by speaking; and
therefore Regard is to be had in these Edifices
to the Sound of the Voice. For this Reason
there ought to be something to prevent the
Voice from ascending too high and being lost,
and especially in vaulted Roofs to prevent it
from thundering in the Top of the Vault and
deafening the Hearers: Upon which Account,
as well for Beauty as for this necessary Use, the
Wall ought to be crowned with a Cornice. I
find from Observation of the Structures of this
Sort left by the Ancients, that they used to
make their Courts square. The Height of their
vaulted Courts was six sevenths of the Breadth
of the Front, and the Roof was a plain Arch.

Just opposite to the Door the Beholder’ s Eye
was struck with the Tribunal, the Sagitta
whereof was the Third of its Chord: The
Breadth of the Aperture of the Door, was one
seventh of the whole Front. At half the
Height of the Wall, and one eighth Paid of
that half, projected an Architrave, Freze and
Cornice upon an Order of Columns, either close
or thin set, as the Architect liked best, accord-
ing to the Rules of the Colonades and Porti-
coes of a Temple. Over the Cornice on the
right and left Sides, in certain Niches opened
in the Wall, were Statues and other Figures
of religious Veneration, but in the Front at the
same Height with those Niches, was a Window
twice as broad as high, with two little Columns
in the Middle of it, to support the Transom.

This was the Structure of the Priests Court.

The Court for the Senators may be as follows:
The Breadth of the Platform must be two
thirds of its Fength. The Height to the Rafters
of the Roof must be equal to the Breadth of
the Platform, with the Addition of one fourth

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1

Part of that Breadth. The Wall must be crown-
ed with a Cornice, according to the following
Rule. Having divided the whole clear Height
into nine Parts, one of those Parts must be
given to the solid Basement, or continued Pe-
destal of the Columns, and against this Base-
ment must be the Seats for the Senators. The
Remainder must afterwards be divided into
seven Parts, whereof four must be given to the
first Row of Columns, over which you must
raise another, both with their proper Bases,
Capitals, Architraves, Frezes and Cornices, in
the Manner before prescribed for a Basilique.
The Intervals between the Columns on each
Side, must always be in an odd Number, and
all equal to each other; but in Front, those
Intervals must be no more than three, the
Middlemost whereof must be one fourth Part
broader than the other two. In every Interval
in the upper Row of Columns must be a Win-
dow, this Sort of Courts requiring as much
Light as possible, and under each Window must

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  • PLATE 59. (Page 182)

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1

PLATE 60. f Page 182)

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1

PLATE 61. ( Page 182)

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1

PLATE 62. ( Page 182)

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1

be a Rest, according to the Rules already given
for the Basilique, and no Part of the Dress of
these Windows must rise higher than the Shaft
of the Columns between which they stand,
exclusive of their Capitals. The Height of the
Aperture of the Window being divided into
eleven Parts, seven must be given to its Breadth.
If you would have no upper Row of Columns
at all, then you may support the upper Cornice
with Consoles, instead of Capitals, according to
the Method already given in the Description of
the Ionic Door. Then each Window will stand
between two Consoles made after the following
Proportions. The Breadth of the Console must
be the same as the Top of the naked Shaft of
a Column in the same Place ought to be, exclu-
sive of the Astragal and Fillet, and its Length
equal to the Height of the Corinthian Capital
without its Abacus. The Projecture of the
Console must not exceed that of the Freze of
its Entablature. The Ancients in a great many
Places had several other Kinds of Structures and
Inventions which admitted of Ornaments, and
rendered the City more magnificent. We are
told, that near the Academy of Athens there
was a very fine Grove consecrated to the Gods,
which was cut down by Sylla in order for the
casting up an Intrenchment against Athens.
Alexander Severus adorned his own Thermes,
or Baths, with a pleasant Grove, and added to
those of Antoninus several fine Lakes for Swim-
ming in. The Agrigentines, upon Zelo ‘ s Vic-
tory against the Chalcedonians made such a Lake
seven Furlongs long and twenty Cubits deep,
from which they raised a considerable Income.
We read, that at Tivoli there was a very famous
publick Library. Pisistratus was the first that
erected such a Library at Aihens, consisting of
a great Number of Books, which were carried
away by Xerxes into Persia, and afterwards

619

1

brought back again to Athens by Seleucus. The
Ptolomeys King of A Egypt had a Library con-
sisting of seven hundred thousand Volumns;
but why should we wonder at such a Number
of Books in a publick Collection, when there
was no less than sixty-two thousand Volumns
in the particular Library of the Gordians? In
the Country of Laodicea, besides the Temple
of Nemesis, there was a noble Physick School,
erected by Zeuxis, which was highly celebrat-
ed. Appian tells us, that at Carthage there
was a Stable of three hundred Elephants, and
another of hundred Horses, an Arsenal for two
hundred and twenty Ships, together with other
Magazines both of Arms and Provisions suffi-
cient to supply a whole Army. At Thebes,
which was anciently called the City of the Sun,
we read, that there were no less than an hundred
publick Stables, each big enough to hold two
hundred Horses. In Cizycus, an Island of the
Propontis, there were two Ports, and between
them an Arsenal, the Roofs of which would
give Shelter to two hundred Vessels. Upon
the Pireum, or Port of Athens, was a noble
Station for no less than four hundred Ships,
which was the celebrated Work of Philo. Di-
onysius, at the Haven of Syracuse, made an
Arsenal divided into an hundred and sixty Par-
titions, each whereof would contain two Ves-
sels, together with a Magazine, which in a few
Days would furnish above an hundred and
twenty thousand Shields, and an incredible
Number of Swords. At Sithicus the Spartans
had an Arsenal of above an hundred and sixty
Furlongs long. Thus we find Variety of Struc-
tures among various Nations: But as to their
particular Forms, Designs and Contrivances, I
have nothing certain to prescribe, except that
those Parts of them which are for Use, must be
borrowed from the Rules of private Edifices,

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1

and those which are for Ornament and Magni-
ficence, from those of publick ones. I shall
only observe, that the principal Ornament of a
Library, is the Number and Variety of the
Books contained in it, and chiefly their being
collected from among the learned Remains of
Antiquity. Another great Ornament, are cu-
rious mathematical Instruments of all Sorts,
especially if they are like that made by Posdo-
nius, in which all the seven Planets performed
their proper Revolutions by their own Motion;
or that of Aristarchus, who we are told de-
scribed a Plan of the whole World, with all its
several Provinces, upon a Table of Iron, to a
most curious Exactness, and the Busts of the
ancient Poets, which Tiberius placed in his Li-
brary, were certainly a very proper and beau-
tiful Ornament. I think I have now gone
through with all the Ornaments that relate to
publick Edifices. I have treated both of the
Sacred and of the Profane, of Temples, Basili-
ques, Porticoes, Sepulchres, Highways, Ha-
vens, Squares, Bridges, Triumphal Arches,
Theatres, Circusses, Courts, Council-chambers,
publick Places for Exercise, and the like, so
that there seems nothing of this Nature now
left for me to speak of, except it be Thermes
or publick Baths.

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1

CHAP. X.

OfThermes or publick Baths; their Conveniencies and Ornaments.

  • Some have condemned Baths, imagining
    they made Men effeminate, while others
    have had so great an Opinion of them, that
    they have washed in them seven Times a Day.

The ancient Physicians, in order for the Cure
of various Distempers by means of Bathing,
erected a great Number of Thermes or publick
Baths in the City of Rome at an incredible Ex-
pence. Heliogabalus particularly built Thermce
in a great many Places, but having washed
once in each, he immediately ordered it to be
demolished, scorning ever to wash twice in the
same Bath. I am not thoroughly determined
whether this Kind of Structure be of a publick
or private Nature: And indeed I cannot help
thinking that it partakes somewhat of both,
since in many Particulars, it borrows from the
Designs of private Edifices, and in many others
from those of publick ones. A publick Bath
or Thermas requiring a very large Area of
Ground to stand upon, it is not proper to build
it in the principal and most frequented Part of
the City, neither should it be placed too far
out of the Way, because both the chief Citi-
zens and the Women must resort thither to
wash themselves. The Therm re itself must have
a large open Space clear round it, which must
be encompassed with a high Wall, with proper
Entrances at convenient Places. In the Mid-
dle of the Therme must be a large stately Hall,
which must be as it were the Center of the
whole Edifice, with Cells all round it after the
Manner of the Etrurian Temple, which we
have already described. Into this Hall we are

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1

to enter through a handsome Vestibule, front-
ing to the South, from which we pass into an-
other smaller Vestibule or Lobby, and so into
the great Hall. From the Hall is a large Gate
fronting to the North, which opens into a large
open Square, on the Right and Left of which
are spacious Porticoes, and immediately behind
those Porticoes are the cold Baths. Let us once
more go back into the great Hall. On the
right Side of this Hall, which lies to the East,
is a broad spacious Lobby, with three Cells on
each Side of it, lying opposite to each other.
This Lobby carries us into another open Square,
which I call the Xystus, which is encompassed
with Porticoes on every Side. Of these Porti-
coes, that which fronts you as you come into
the Square, has a handsome Withdrawing-
room behind it. The Portico whose Front lies
to the South has cold Baths behind it, in the
same Manner as in the other Square, with con-
venient Dressing-rooms adjoining to them:

And in the opposite Portico are the warm
Baths, which receive the south Sun by Win-
dows broke out behind the Portico. In con-
venient Angles in the Porticoes of the Xystus
are the other smaller Vestibules, for Passages
out into the open Space which encompasses the
whole Thermas. These are the several Mem-
bers of the Thermas which lie on the right Side
of the great Hall, and there must be just the
same on the left which lies to the West, an-
swering to the former: The Lobby with three
Cells on each Side, the open Square or Xystus
with its Porticoes and Withdrawing-rooms, and
the smaller Vestibules in the Angles of the
Xystus. Let us return once more to that prin-
cipal Vestibule of the whole Structure, which
I said fronted the South; on the right Hand of
which, upon the Line which runs to the East
are three Rooms, and as many on that which

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1

runs to the West; the one for the Women,
and the other for the Men. In the first Room
they undressed; in the second they anointed
themselves, and in the third they washed: And
some for the greater Magnificence, added a
fourth, for the Friends and Servants of those
that were bathing to wait for them in. These
Bathing-rooms received the Noon-day Sun at
very large Windows. Between these Rooms
and those Cells which I told you lay along the
Side of the inner Lobbies, which lead out of
the great Hall into the open Square on the Side
or Xystus, another open Area was left, which
threw Light into the south Side of those inner
Cells that lie along those Lobbies from the great
Hall. The whole Edifice of the Thermae, as
I before observed, was encompassed clear round
with a broad open Space, which was even spa-
cious enough for Races, nor were Goals want-
ing in proper Places of it for that Purpose. In
the open Space on the south Side in which is
the principal Vestibule of the whole Edifice,

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1

PLATE 63. ( Pages 184-85)

625

1

was a large semicircular Area verging to the
South, in which several Rows of Seats were
raised like those in the Theatre, and the Wall
was raised very high on that Side to keep off
the south Sun. All this open Space quite
round the whole Therm a: was enclosed, like a
Castle, with a continued Wall, and in this out-
ward Wall were several handsome Rooms,
either quadrangular or semicircular, which
looked towards the Thermas itself. In these
Rooms the Citizens at Morning or Evening, or
any Hour they liked best, enjoyed either Sun
or Shade. Besides all these, and especially to-
wards the North, behind the inclosing Wall
were open Piazzas, of moderate Height, longer
than broad, and drawn upon a curve Plat-
form. These Piazzas were surrounded by cir-
cular Porticoes, with a close Wall at their
Back, so that very little Sky was to be seen in
these Piazzas, and between these Porticoes and
the main Inclosure was a very good Refuge
from the Heat in Summer, because by means
of the Narrowness of the Piazza itself, and the
Height of the main Wall, the Sun, even in the
Summer Solstice could hardly strike in upon it.
In the Angles of the main Inclosure were Ves-
tibules and little Temples in which the Ma-
trons, having cleansed and purified themselves,
offered Oblations to their Gods. This is a
brief Account of the several Members and Parts
of the ancient Therm a: or Baths, and the De-
signs of the several Members were taken either
from the Structures which we have already de-
scribed, or from those which we are still to
treat of, according as they had the greatest Re-
lation either to publick or to private Edifices;
and the Platform of most of the ancient
Edifices of this Sort contained above ten thou-
sand Foot square.

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1

The End of Book VIII.

627

1

THE

ARCHITECTURE

OF

Leone Batista Alberti.

BOOK IX. CHAP. I.

That particular Regard must be had to Frugality and Parsimony, and of the
adorning the Palaces or Houses of the King and principal Magistrates.

We are here to remember, that there

are two Sorts of Houses for private

Men; some for the Town and others

for the Country; and of these again

some are intended for Citizens of meaner Rank,

and others for those of the highest Quality.

We are now to treat of the proper Ornaments
for each of these; but first I would premise
some few necessary Precautions. We find that
among the Ancients the Men of the greatest
Prudence and Modesty were always best pleased
with Temperance and Parsimony in all Things,
both publick and private, and particularly in
the Affair of Building, judging it necessary to
prevent and restrain all Extravagance and Pro-
fusion in their Citizens in these Points, which
they did to the utmost of their Power both by
Admonitions and Laws. For this Reason Plato
commends those who, as we have before observ-
ed, made a Decree, that no Man should have in
his House any Picture that was finer than those
which had been set up in the Temples of their
Gods by their Forefathers, and that even the
Temple itself should be adorned with no other
Painting but such a single Picture as one Painter
could draw in one single Day. He also or-
dained, that the Statues of the Gods themselves
should be made only of Wood or Stone, and
that Iron and Brass should be left for the Uses
of War, whereof they were the proper Instru-

628

1

ments. Demosthenes cried up the Manners of
the ancient Athenians , much beyond those of
his Cotemporaries; for he tells us, they left an
infinite Number of publick Edifices, and espe-
cially of Temples, so magnificent and richly
adorned that nothing could exceed them; but
they were so modest in their private Buildings,
that the Houses of the very noblest Citizens
differed very little from those of the meanest;
by which means they effected, what is very
rarely known among Men, to overcome Envy
by Glory. But the Spartans condemned even
these, for having embellished their City more
with the Builder’ s Skill, than with the Splendor
of their own Exploits, while they themselves
gloried, that they had adorned their own City
more by their Virtue than by their fine Build-
ings. Among them it was one of Lycurgus ’ s
Laws, that their Roofs should be wrought with
no nicer Tool than the Ax, and their Doors
with the Saw. Agesilaus, when he beheld
square Rafters in the Houses in Asia, laughed
at them; and asked the People, whether if
they had grown naturally square, they would
not have made them round? And doubtless he
was in the Right; because, according to the
ancient Modesty of his Nation, he was of Opi-
nion, that the Houses of private Persons ought
to be built only for Convenience, and not for
Beauty or Magnificence. It was a Law in

629

1

Germany, in Ccesar ’ s Time, that no Man should
build too delicately, and especially in the
Country, to prevent Dissention among the
People from a Desire of usurping each other’ s
Possessions. Valerious Poplicola having built a
stately House on that which is now the Monte
Cavallo at Rome, pulled it down to avoid Envy,
and built himself another in the Plain; and the
same Modesty appeared in every Thing both
Publick and Private in those ancient Times,
while the Manners of the Romans continued
uncorrupted: But afterwards, when the Em-
pire was enlarged, the Luxury of Building ran
so high in almost every Body (except in Octa-
vianus, who had so great a Dislike to sumptu-
ous Buildings, that he pulled down a Country-
house only for its being too magnificent) I say,
the Extravagance of Building ran so high in
the City of Rome, that some of the Gordian
Family, among others, built a House on the
Road to Preneste, with two hundred Columns
all of the same Bigness, and upon one Row,
whereof fifty were of Numidian, fifty of Clau-
dian, fifty of Samian, and fifty of Titian Mar-
ble, as I remember to have read. What a
Piece of Magnificence was that which we read
of in Lucretius, that in some Houses there were
Statues of young Men all of Gold, holding
lighted Torches in their right Hands, to light
up their Feasts at Night? My Design in men-
tioning these Things is to confirm by the Com-
parison, what I said before, that the Magnifi-
cence of the Building should be adapted to the
Dignity of the Owner; and if I may offer my
Opinion, I should rather, in private Edifices,
that the greatest Men fell rather a little short
in Ornament, than they should be condemned
for Luxury and Profusion by the more Dis-
creet and Frugal. But since all agree, that we
should endeavour to leave a Reputation behind

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1

us, not only for our Wisdom but our Power
too; for this Reason, as Thucydides observes,
we erect great Structures, that our Posterity
may suppose us to have been great Persons.
When therefore we adorn our Habitations not
more for Delicacy than to procure Honour to
our Country and our Families, who can deny
this to be a Work well becoming the wisest
Men? Accordingly I would have those Parts
of the House which are chiefly in the publick
View, and which are in a Manner to give the
first Welcome to every Guest, as the Front, the
Vestibule, and the like, be made as handsome
as possible. And, though indeed I think those
ought to be very much blamed that are guilty
of too much Excess; yet I think those are much
more to be condemned that lay out a great
Expence upon a Building capable of no Orna-
ment, than those that turn both their Thoughts
and Money upon Ornament principally: Tho’

I believe, I may venture to say, that whoever
considers the true Nature of Ornament in
Building will be convinced, that it is not Ex-
pence so much that is requisite,, as Taste and
Contrivance. I think no prudent Man in
building his private House should willingly
differ too much from his Neighbours, or raise
their Envy by his too great Expence and Os-
tentation; neither, on the other Hand, should
he suffer himself to be out-done by any one
whatsoever in the Ingenuity of Contrivance, or
Elegance of Taste, to which the whole Beauty
of the Composition, and Harmony of the seve-
ral Members must be owing, which is indeed
the highest and principal Ornament in all
Building. But to return to our Subject.

THE Royal Palace, or in a free City, the
House of the Senator or chief Magistrate ought
to be the first in Beauty and Magnificence.

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1

Of the Ornaments of those Parts of this Palace
or House which bear any Relation to a pub-
lick Edifice, I have treated already. We are
now to adorn those Parts which are intended
only for private Use. I would have the Vesti-
bule adorned in the most handsome and splen-
did Manner, according to the Quality of the
Owner; besides which there should be stately
Porticoes, and handsome Courts, with every
Thing else in Imitation of a publick Edifice,
that tends either to Dignity or Ornament, as far
as the Nature of the Structure itself will bear,
only using so much Moderation as to seem ra-
ther to aim at Beauty and Gracefulness, than
at any Thing sumptuous: And as we observed
in the last Book, with relation to Works of a
publick Nature, that secular Buildings ought
to yield in Dignity to the sacred, so here the
Edifices of private Persons ought to give Way
in Excellence and Number of Ornaments to
those of the publick. A private House ought
not to have Doors of Brass or Ivory, which was
objected to Camillus as a Crime, nor Roofs
fretted with great Quantities of Gold, or inlaid
with Glass, nor should every Part be incrusted
with Hymettian or Parian Marble; such Ma-
terials being proper only in Temples: But the
Builder’ s chief Commendation in a private
Structure, is to use moderate Materials elegant-
ly, and elegant ones moderately. Let him
be contented with Cypress, Larch and Box

632

1

Wood; let his Incrustations or outward Coat
be adorned with plain Figures in Stuc, or with
some slight Painting, and his Cornices at most
of common Marble. Not that he must abso-
lutely reject the most precious Materials; but
he should place them only in the most honour-
able Parts, like Gems in a Crown. But to give
my Opinion of the whole Matter in one Word,

I think that a sacred Edifice should be adorned
in such a Manner, that it should be impossible
to add any Thing that can conduce either to
Majesty, Beauty or Wonder: Whereas a pri-
vate Structure should be so contrived, that it
shall be impossible to take any Thing from it,
without lessening its Dignity. Other Buildings,
that is to say, the Profane of a publick Nature,
should observe the Medium between these two
Extremes. Buildings of a private Sort should
keep strictly to the Ornaments proper to them,
only they may be made use of here with some-
what more Freedom. For Instance, if the Co-
lumns be of rather a smaller Diameter, or else
more turgid, or if the Diminution of the Top
of the Shaft be greater than the exact Propor-
tions for publick Structures, they ought not
here to be condemned, provided they do not
look deformed or unsightly. And whereas in
publick Works not the least Deviation is allow-
ed from the exactest Laws of Proportion, in
private Works such a Deviation is often hand-
some and commendable. Thus we may ob-
serve with what a beautiful Effect some of the
more lively Architects used in the Doors of
Flails, instead of Jambs to place huge Statues
of Slaves, which supported the Lintel on their
Pleads; and to make Columns, especially in the
Porticoes of their Gardens, with Knots in the
Shafts, in Imitation of Trees that had their
Branches cut off, or girded round with a Cinc-
ture of Boughs, or with their whole Shaft

633

1

wreathed and enriched with Leaves, Birds, and
Channels: or where they would make the
Work extremely strong, we find them erect-
ing square Columns, fortified with a half Co-
lumn on each Side; which instead of Capitals
had either Baskets full of Vine Branches laden
with Fruit, or the Head of a Palm-tree rising
up and full of Leaves, or a Knot of Serpents
wreathed together, or an Eagle with its Wings
expanded in Token of Pleasure, or a Medusa ‘ s
Head with the Snakes hissing at each other, or
any other Fancy of the same Kind; to enu-
merate all which, would be endless. But in all
these Liberties the Architect must be as care-
ful as possible to keep the several Parts within
the Terms of the regular Lines and Angles, and
not suffer his Work to want a due Proportion
in its several Members: So that the Beholder
may immediately find, that his Design was to
be wanton in these Particulars, and to indulge a
Freedom of Invention. And as of the Parlours,

Passages and Apartments, some are more pub-
lick, some more concealed, and as it were hid-
den; the former may be allowed somewhat
more of the Splendor of a publick Structure,
but yet so as not to create Envy; and in the
latter we may allow ourselves more Fiberty in
departing out of the common Road, and con-
hiving something new.

CHAP. II.

Of the Adorning of private Houses, both in City and Country.

But as of the Houses of private Persons,
some are in the City, and some in the
Country, we must say something of the Orna-
ments proper to each of these. Between a
House in Town and a House in the Country,
there is this further Difference, besides what we

634

1

took notice of in the last Book, that the Orna-
ments, for that in Town ought to be much
more grave than those for a House in the Coun-
try, where all the gayest and most licentious
Embellishments are allowable. There is an-
other Difference too between them, which is,
that in Town you are obliged to moderate
yourselves in several Respects according to the
Privileges of your Neighbour; whereas you have
much more Liberty in the Country. In Town
you must not raise your Platform or Basement
too high above your Neighbours, nor let your
Portico project too far forwards from the Line
of the adjacent Buildings. The Thickness and
Height of the Walls at Rome anciently were
not suffered to be according to every Man’ s
particular – Lancy, but by an old Law were all
to be made according to a certain Standard;
and Julius Ccesar, upon account of the Mis-
chiefs that might happen from bad Loundati-

635

1

ons, ordained that no House should be more
than one Story high: To which Regulations a
Country-house is not subject. It was reckoned
one of the Glories of Babylon, that their Houses
had Inhabitants in the fourth Story. A Elius
Aristides, the Orator, praising Rome in a pub-
lick Oration, cried it up as a miraculous Work
of the Romans to have built upon great Houses
other Houses as great: a handsome Piece of
Flattery; but it shewed the Numerousness of
the People much more than the Magnificence
of the Buildings themselves. We are told that
in Height of Houses the City of Rome was out-
done by Tyre, which by that means was former-
ly very near being wholly destroyed by Earth-
quakes. It is one very great Beauty and Con-
venience in a Building to have no more Ascents
and Descents in it than are absolutely necessary;
and it is certainly a very true Saying, that
Stairs are nothing but Incumbrances to a House,
from which Incumbrances I find the Ancients
were very studious to keep clear. But in the
Country there is no Manner of Necessity for
setting one House thus upon another: For on-
ly taking a larger Platform we may make
whatever Conveniencies we think fit upon the
same Floor; which I should like extremely
well in Town too, if it could be had. There
is another Sort of private Houses, in which the
Dignity of the Town-house, and the Delights
and Pleasures of the Country-house are both
required; of which we said nothing in the for-
mer Books, reserving it puiposely for this very
Place: And these are the Pleasure-houses just
without the Town, or the Villa’ s which are by
no means to be passed by without some Obser-
vations, though I shall be as brief in them as
possible. Accordingly I shall here lay together
all that I have to say of each of these three
Sorts of Structures, and first of the Villa close

636

1

to the Town. The Saying among the Anci-
ents, Let him that buys a Country-house sell
his House in Town, and let him that has Busi-
ness in Town, never think of a House in the
Country, seems to imply, that a Villa near
Town is extremely convenient. The Physici-
ans advise us to dwell in the clearest and open-
est Air that we can find; and there is no room
to doubt but a Country-house seated upon an
Eminence, must of Course be the Best: But
then on the other Hand, the Master of a Fa-
mily, upon account of his private Business, or
the publick Affairs, may be obliged to be often
in the City; for which Puipose a House in
Town seems necessary: But then as the former
is inconvenient for Business, so the latter is
prejudicial to the Health. It is a common
Thing for the Generals of Armies to remove
their Camps often, to avoid being incommod-
ed by ill Smells: What can we think then of a
great City, where such vast Quantities of Filth,
and so long kept, are continually exhaling their
offensive Steams? To reconcile this Dilemma
therefore, I do not think that of all the Struc-
tures which are raised for the Conveniency of
Mankind, there is any so commodious or so
healthy as the Villa; which at the same Time
as it lies in the Way for Business, is not wholly
destitute of pure Air. Cicero desired his Friend
Atticus to build him a Villa in a Place of emi-
nent Note: But I, for my Part, am not for ha-
ving it in a Place of such Resort, that I must
never venture to appear at my Door without
being compleatly dressed. I would have it
afford me the Pleasure which the old Gentle-
man in Terence boasts he enjoyed, of being never-
tired either with the Town or Country. Martial
too gives a very just Description of his Way of
Fiving in such a Villa.

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1

You tell me. Friend, you much desire to know.
What in my Villa I can find to do?

I eat, drink, sing, play, bathe, sleep, eat again.
Or read, or wanton in the Muses Tram.

THERE is certainly a vast deal of Satisfaction
in a convenient Retreat near the Town, where
a Man is at Liberty to do just what he pleases.
The great Beauties of such a Retreat, are being
near the City, upon an open airy Road, and
on a pleasant Spot of Ground. The greatest
Commendation of the House itself is its making
a chearful Appearance to those that go a little
Way out of Town to take the Air, as if it
seemed to invite every Beholder: And for this
Reason I would have it stand pretty high, but
upon so easy an Ascent, that it should hardly
be perceptible to those that go to it, till they
find themselves at the Top, and a large Pro-
spect opens itself to their View. Nor should
there be any Want of pleasant Landskips,
flowery Meads, open Champains, shady Groves,
or limpid Brooks, or clear Streams and Lakes
sor swimming, with all other Delights of the
same Sort, which we before observed to be ne-
cessary in a Country Retreat, both for Conve-
nience and Pleasure. Lastly, what I have al-
ready said conduces extremely to the Pleasant-
ness of all Buildings, I would have the Lront
and whole Body of the House perfectly well

638

1

lighted, and that it be open to receive a great
deal of Light and Sun, and a sufficient Quan-
tity of wholsome Air. Let nothing be within
View that can offend the Eye with a melan-
choly Shade. Let all Things smile and seem
to welcome the Arrival of your Guests. Let
those who are already entered be in Doubt
whether they shall for Pleasure continue where
they are, or pass on further to those other Beau-
ties which tempt them on. Let them be led
from square Rooms into round ones, and again
from round into square, and so into others
of mixed Lines, neither all round nor all
square; and let the Passage into the very in-
nermost Apartments be, if possible, without the
least Ascent or Descent, but all be upon one
even Floor, or at least let the Ascents be as
easy as may be.

CHAP. III.

That the Parts and Members of a House are differen t both in Nature and
Species, and that they are to be adorned in various Manners.

But as the Members or Parts of a House
are very different one from the other both
in Nature and Species, it may now be proper
to say something of each, having indeed pur-
posely reserved them for this very Place: For
there are many Parts which it matters very
little whether you make round or square, pro-
vided they are fit for the Puiposes to which they
are intended; but it is not equally indifferent
what Number they are in, and how they are
disposed; and it is necessary that some should
be larger, as the inner Courts, while some re-
quire a smaller Area, as the Chambers and all
the private Apartments. Some others must be
in a Medium between the others, as Eating-
parlours and the Vestibule. We have already

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in another Place given our Thoughts of the
apt Disposition of each Member of a House,
and as to the respective Difference of their
Areas, there is no Occasion to speak here, be-
cause they are infinite both from the different
Humours of Men, and the different Ways of
Living in different Places. The Ancients, be-
fore their Houses made either a Portico, or at
least a Porch, not always with straight Lines,
but sometimes with curve, after the Manner of
the Theatre. Next to the Portico lay the Ves-
tibule, which was almost constantly circular;
behind that was the Passage into the inner Court,
and those other Parts of the House which we
have already spoken of in their proper Places,
whereof to enter upon a fresh Description
would make us too prolix. The Things that
we ought not to omit are these. Where the
Area is round it must be proportioned accord-
ing to the Design of the Temple; unless there
be this Difference, that here the Height of the
Walls must be greater than in the Temple, for
Reasons which you shall know shortly. If it
be quadrangular, then in some Particulars it
will differ from those Instructions which we
have given for sacred Edifices, as also for pro-
fane ones of a publick Nature; but yet in
some others it will agree with the Council-
chambers and Courts. According to the ge-
neral Custom of the Ancients, the Breadth of
the Porch was either two thirds of its Length,
or else the Length was one whole Breadth and
two thirds more, or else the Length was one
whole Breadth with the Addition of two fifths.

To each of these Proportions the Ancients seem
always to have allowed the Height of the Wall to
be equal to its whole Length, and one third more.
By taking the actual Dimension of a great many
Structures, I find that square Platforms require
a different Height of Wall where they are to

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be covered with vaulted Roofs, from what they
do when their Roof is to be flat: As also that
some Difference is to be made between the
Proportions of a large Building and those of a
small one: Which arises from the different In-
terval that there is from the Beholder’ s Eye,
which must in this Case be considered as the
Center, to the extreme Height which it sur-
veys: But of those Things we shall treat else-
where. We must Proportion the Areas of our
Apartments to our Roof, and our Roof to the
Length of the Rafters with which it is to be
covered in. I call that a moderate Roof which
may be supported by a Piece of Timber of a
moderate Length. But besides the Proportions
which I have already treated of, there are seve-
ral other proper Dimensions and Agreements of
Lines which I shall here endeavour to explain
as clearly and succinctly as possible. If the
Length of the Platform be twice its Breadth;

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1

then, where the Roof is to be flat, the Height
must be equal to the Breadth; where the Roof
is to be vaulted, a third Paid of that Breadth
more must be added. This may serve for mid-
dling Buildings: In very large ones, if they are
to have a vaulted Roof, the whole Height must
be one whole Breadth, with the Addition of
one fourth Part; but if the Roof is to be flat
it must be one whole Breadth and two fifths.

If the Length of the Platform be three Times its
Breadth, and the Roof is to be flat, let the
Height be one whole Breath and three quarters,
if the Roof is to be vaulted, let the Height be
one whole Breadth and an half. If the Length
of the Platform be four Times its Breadth, and
the Roof is to be vaulted, let the Height be
half its Length; and if the Roof is to be flat,
divide the Breadth into four Parts, and give
one and three quarters of those Parts to the
Height. If the Length be five Times the
Breadth, make the Height the same as where
it is four Times, only with the Addition of
one sixth Part of that Height; and if it is six
Times the Breadth, make it as before, adding
not a sixth as in the former, but a fifth. If
the Platform be an exact Square with equal
Sides, and the Roof is to be vaulted, let the
Height exceed the Breadth as in the Platform
of three Breadths; but if the Roof is to be flat,
it must not exceed so much, and in the larger
Platforms, it must not exceed this Breadth
above one fourth Part. In those Platforms
where the Length exceeds the Breadth only
one ninth Part, let the Height be exceeded by
the Breadth one ninth Part too; but this must
be only in a flat Roof. When the Length is
to be one whole Breadth and a third, let the
Height be one whole Breadth and a sixth in flat
Roofs; but in vaulted ones, let the Height be
one whole Breadth and a sixth of the Length.

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When the Length is one Breadth and an Half,
let the Height be one Breadth and a seventh of
that Breadth, in a flat Roof; but in a vaulted
one, let the Height be one Breadth, and a
seventh of the Length of the Platform. If the
Platform consist of Lines whereof one is as
seven, and the other as five, or the Length be
as five and the Breadth as three, or the like,
according as the Necessity of the Place, or Va-
riety of Invention, or the Nature of the Orna-
ments requires; add those two Lines together,
and allow one half of the Amount to the
Height. I must not here omit one Precaution,
namely, that the Vestibule ought never to be
above twice as long as broad, and the Apart-
ments never less broad than two thirds of their
Length. The Platforms which are in Length
three or four Times their Breadth or more, be-
long only to Porticoes, and even they ought
never to be above six Times their Breadth. In
the Wall Apertures are to be left both for
Windows and Doors. If the Window is broke
in the Wall of the Breadth-line of the Plat-
form, which in its very Nature is shorter than
that of the Length, then there must be only a
single one; and this Window itself must either
be higher than it is broad, or else on the con-
trary broader than it is high, which last Sort is
called a reclining Window. If the Breadth is
to be like that of the Door, somewhat less than
the Length; then let the Breadth of the clear
Opening be not more than a third, nor less than
a fourth Part of the Inside of the Wall in which
it is made; and let the Rest or Bottom of the
Window be in Height from the Floor not more
than four ninths of the whole Height, nor less
than two. The Height of the clear Open of
the Window must be one third more than its
Breadth; and this is the Proportion, if the Win-
dow is to be higher than broad; but if the

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Window is to be broader then high, than of
the whole inside Length of the Wall in which
it is made, you must not allow the Open of the
Window less than one half, nor more than two
thirds. In the same Manner its Height too
must be made either half its Breadth, or two
thirds, only it must have two little Columns to
support the Transom. If you are to make
Windows in the longer Side, there must be
more of them, and they should be in an odd
Number. I find the Ancients were best pleased
with three, which were made in the following
Manner: The whole longest Side of the Wall
must be divided into never more than seven, nor
less than five Parts, of which taking three, in
each of them make a Window, making the
Height of the Open one whole Breadth and
three quarters, or one Breadth and four fifths.

If you would make your Windows more nu-
merous; as they will then partake of the Na-
ture of a Portico, you may borrow the Dimen-
sions of your Openings from the Rules of the
Portico itself, and especially from that of the
Theatre, as we laid them down in their proper
Place. The Doors must be made after the
Manner of those which we described for the
Court and Council-chamber. Let the Dress of
the Windows be Corinthian; of the principal
Door, Ionic; of the Doors of the Halls and
Chambers, Doric. And thus much of the Lines,
as far as they relate to this present Puipose.

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CHAP. IV.

With what Paintings, Plants, and Statues, it is proper to adorn the Pave-
ments, Porticoes, Apartmen ts and Gardens of a private House.

There are some other Ornaments ex-
tremely proper for a private House, by
no means to be omitted in this Place. The
Ancients stained the Pavements of their Porti-
coes with Labyrinths, both square and circular,
in which the Boys used to exercise themselves.

I have myself seen Pavements stained in Imita-
tion of the Bell-flower-weed, with its Branches
twining about very beautifully. Other have
paved their Chambers with a Sort of Mosaic
Work of Marble, in Imitation of Carpets, others
in Imitation of Garlands and Branches of Trees.

It was a very ingenious Invention of Osis, who
strewed the Pavement at Pergamus with inlaid
Work, in Imitation of the Fragments that lie
scattered about after Meals; an Ornament not
ill suited to a Parlour. Agrippa was very right
in making his Floors of common baked Barth.

I, for my Part, hate every Thing that savours
of Luxury or Profusion, and am best pleased
with those Ornaments which arise principally
from the Ingenuity and Beauty of the Contri-
vance. Upon side Walls no Sort of Painting
shews handsomer than the Representation of
Columns in Architecture. Titius Ccesar adorn-
ed the Walls of the Portico in which he used
to walk, with a Sort of PhSnician Stone so fine-
ly polished, that it returned the Reflection of
all the Objects like a Looking-glass. Antoninus
Caracalla, the Emperor, painted his Portico
with the memorable Exploits and Triumphs of
his Father. Severus did the same; but Aga-
thocles painted not his Father’ s Actions, but his
own. Among the Persians, according to their
ancient Laws, it was not permitted to paint or

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carve any other Story, but of the wild Beasts
slain by their Kings. It is certain, the brave
and memorable Actions of one’ s Countrymen,
and their Effigies, are Ornaments extremely
suitable both to Porticoes and Halls. Caius
Ccesar embellished his Portico with the Statues
of all those that had enlarged the Confines of
the Republick, and he gained a general Ap-
probation by so doing. I am as much pleased
as any body with this Kind of Ornaments; but
yet I would not have the Wall too much
crowded with Statues or History Pieces. We
may find by Gems, and especially by Pearls,
that if they are set too thick together, they lose
their Beauty. For this Reason, in some of the
most convenient and most conspicuous Parts of
the Wall, I am for making handsome Pannels
of Stone, in which we may place either Sta-
tues, or Pictures; such as Pompey had carried
along in his Triumph; Representing his Ex-
ploits both by Sea and Land in Picture. Or
rather, I am for having Pictures of such Ficti-
ons of the Poets, as tend to the Promotion of
good Manners; such as that of Dcedcilus , who
painted the Gates of Cumce with the Repre-
sentation of Icarus flying. And as the Sub-
jects both of Poetry and Painting are various,
some expressing the memorable Actions of great
Men; others Representing the Manners of pri-
vate Persons; others describing the Life of
Rusticks: The former, as the most Majestick,
should be applied to publick Works, and the
Buildings of Princes; and the latter, as the
more chearful, should be set apart for Pleasure-
houses and Gardens. Our Minds are delight-
ed in a particular Manner with the Pictures of
pleasant Landskips, of Havens, of Fishing,
Hunting, Swimming, Country Sports, of flowery
Fields and thick Groves. Neither is it foreign
to our present Purpose just to mention, that

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Octavianus, the Emperor, adorned his Palace
with the huge Bones of some extraordinary
Animals. The Ancients used to dress the
Walls of their Grottoes and Caverns with all
Manner of rough Work, with little Chips of
Pumice, or soft Tyburtine Stone, which Ovid
calls the living Pumice; and some I have known
dawb them over with green Wax, in Imitati-
on of the mossy Slime which we always see in
moist Grottoes. I was extremely pleased with
an artificial Grotto which I have seen of this
Sort, with a clear Spring of Water falling from
it; the Walls were composed of various Sorts of
Sea-shells, lying roughly together, some revers-
ed, some with their Mouths outwards, their
Colours being so ait fully blended as to form a
very beautiful Variety. In that Apartment
which is peculiar to the Master of the Family
and his Wife, we should take Care that nothing

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be painted but the most comely and beautiful
Faces; which we are told may be of no small
Consequence to the Conception of the Lady,
and the Beauty of the Children. Such as are
tormented with a Fever are not a little refresh-
ed by the Sight of Pictures of Springs, Cascades
and Streams of Water, which any one may
easily experience; for if at any Time you find
it difficult to compose yourself to rest in the
Night, only turn your Imagination upon such
clear Waters as you can remember any where
to have seen, either of Springs, Lakes or Streams,
and that burning Drowth of the Mind, which
kept you waking, shall presently be moistened,
and a pleasant Forgetfulness shall creep upon
you, till you fall into a fine Sleep. To these
Delicacies we must add those of well-disposed
Gardens and beautiful Trees, together with
Porticoes in the Garden, where you may enjoy
either Sun or Shade. To these add some lit-
tle pleasant Meadow, with fine Springs of
Water bursting out in different Places where
least expected. Let the Walks be terminated
by Trees that enjoy a peipetual Verdure, and
particularly on that Side which is best shelter-
ed from Winds, let them be enclosed with Box,
which is presently injured and rotted by strong
Winds, and especially by the least Spray from the
Sea. In open Places, most exposed to the Sun,
some set Myrtles, which will flourish extreme-
ly in the Summer: But Theophrastus affirms,
that the Myrtle, the Laurel, and the Ivy re-
joyce in the Shade, and therefore directs us to
plant them thick, that they may mutually
shelter one another from the Sun by their own
Shade: Nor let there be wanting Cypress-
Lees cloathed with Ivy. Let the Ground also
be here and there thrown into those Figures
that are most commended in the Platforms of
Flouses, Circles, Semicircles, and the like, and

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surrounded with Laurels, Cedars, Junipers
with their Branches intermixed, and twining
one into the other. Phiteon of Agrigentum,
though but a private Man, had in his House
three hundred Vases of Stone, each whereof
would hold an hundred Amphoras, or about
fifteen of our Hogsheads. Such Vases are very
fine Ornaments for Fountains in Gardens. The
Ancients used to make their Walks into a Kind
of Arbours by Means of Vines supported by
Columns of Marble of the Corinthian Order,
which were ten of their own Diameters in
Height. The Trees ought to be planted in
Rows exactly even, and answering to one an-
other exactly upon straight Lines; and the
Gardens should be enriched with rare Plants,
and such as are in most Esteem among the Phy-
sicians. It was a good agreeable Piece of Flat-
tery among the ancient Gardeners, to trace
their Masters Names in Box, or in sweet-smel-
ing Herbs, in Parterres. Rose-trees, intermix-
ed with Pomegranates and Cornels, are very
beautiful in a Hedge: But the Poet says.

Your Hedge of Oak with Plums and Cornel made,
To yield the Cattle Food, the Master Shade.

BUT perhaps this may suit better with a
Farm intended for Profit, than with a Villa
calculated chiefly for taking the Air in: And
indeed what we are told Democritus very much
condemned, namely, the inclosing a Garden
with any Sort of Wall, I should not blame in
the Case before us, but am rather of Opinion,
that it is a very proper Defence against Malice
or Rapine. Nor am I displeased with the plac-
ing ridiculous Statues in Gardens, provided they
have nothing in them obscene. Such should
be the Disposition of the Villa. In Houses in
Town, the inner Apartments and Parlours

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should not in the least give way, either in
Chearfulness or Beauty, to the Villa; but in
the more publick Rooms, such as the Hall and
Vestibule, you should not aim so much at De-
licacy, as to forget a decent Gravity. The Por-
ticoes of the Houses of the principal Citizens
may have a compleat regular Entablature over
the Columns; but those of lower Degree,
should have only Arches. Vaulted Roofs are
proper in both. The whole Entablature must
be in Height one fourth Part of the Shaft. If
there is to be a second Order of Columns over
the first, let that second Order be one fourth
Part shorter than the lower one; and if there
is to be a third Order over this, let it be one
fifth Part shorter than that below it. In each
of these the Pedestal or Plinth under each Or-
der of Columns, must be in Height one fourth
Part of the Column which it supports; but
where there is to be only one single Row of
Columns, the Proportions may be taken from
those of profane Works of a publick Nature.

A private House should never have such a Pe-
diment as may seem to rival the Majesty of a
Temple. However, the Front of the Vestibule
may be raised somewhat above the rest of the
Building, and be adorned with a smaller Pedi-
ment. The rest of the Front on each Side this
Pediment may be adorned with a small Plinth,
which may rise somewhat higher at the princi-

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pal Angles I cannot be pleased with those
who make Towers and Battlements to a pri-
vate House, which belong of right entirely to
a Fortification, or to the Castle of a Tyrant,
and arc altogether inconsistent with the peace-
able Aspect of a well-governed City or Com-
monwealth, as they shew either a Distrust of
our Countrymen, or a Design to use Violence
against them. Balconies in the Front of a
House are beautiful enough, provided they are
not too large, heavy, and out of Proportion.

CHAP. V.

That the Beauty of all Edifices arises principally from three Things, namely,
the Number, Figure and Collocation of the several Members.

I now come once more to those Points which
I before promised to enquire into, namely,
wherein it is that Beauty and Ornament, uni-
versally considered, consist, or rather whence
they arise. An Enquiry of the utmost Diffi-
culty; for whatever that Property be which is
so gathered and collected from the whole
Number and Nature of the several Parts, or to
be imparted to each of them according to a
certain and regular Order, or which must be
contrived in such a Manner as to join and unite
a certain Number of Parts into one Body or
Whole, by an orderly and sure Coherence and
Agreement of all those Parts: Which Proper-
ty is what we are here to discover; it is cer-
tain, such a Property must have in itself some-
thing of the Force and Spirit of all the Parts
with which it is either united or mixed, other-
wise they must jar and disagree with each other,
and by such Discord destroy the Uniformity or
Beauty of the Whole: The Discovery of which,
as it is far from being easy or obvious in any
other Case, so it is particularly difficult and un-

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certain here; the Art of Architecture consist-
ing of so many various Parts, and each of those
Parts requiring so many various Ornaments as
you have already seen. However, as it is neces-
sary in the Prosecution of our Design, we shall
use the utmost of our Abilities in dealing this
obscure Point, not going so far about as to shew
how a compleat Knowledge of a Whole is to
be gained by examining the several Parts dis-
tinct; but beginning immediately upon what
is to our present Purpose, by enquiring what
that Property is which in its Nature makes a
Thing beautiful. The most expert Artists
among the Ancients, as we have observed else-
where, were of Opinion, that an Edifice was
like an Animal, so that in the Formation of it
we ought to imitate Nature. Let us therefore
enquire how it happens that in the Bodies pro-
duced by Nature herself some are accounted
more, others less beautiful, or even deformed.

It is manifest, that in those which are esteemed
beautiful, the Parts or Members are not con-
stantly all the same, so as not to differ in any
Respect: But we find, that even in those Parts
wherein they vary most, there is something in-
herent and implanted which though they dif-
fer extremely from each other, makes each of
them beautiful. I will make use of an Ex-
ample to illustrate my Meaning. Some admire
a Woman for being extremely slender and fine
shaped; the young Gentleman in Terence pre-
fered a Girl that was plump and fleshy: You
perhaps are for a Medium between these two
Extremes, and would neither have her so thin as
to seem wasted with Sickness, nor so strong and
robust as if she were a Ploughman in Disguise,
and were fit for Boxing: In short, you would
have her such a Beauty as might be formed by
taking from the first what the second might
spare. But then because, one of these pleases

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you more than the other, would you therefore
affirm the other to be not at all handsome or
graceful? By no means; but there may be some
hidden Cause why one should please you more
than the other, into which I will not now pre-
tend to enquire. But the Judgment which you
make that a Thing is beautiful, does not proceed
from mere Opinion, but from a secret Argu-
ment and Discourse implanted in the Mind it-
self; which plainly appears to be so from this,
that no Man beholds any Thing ugly or de-
formed, without an immediate Hatred and
Abhorrence. Whence this Sensation of the
Mind arises, and how it is formed, would be a
Question too subtle for this Place: However,
let us consider and examine it from those
Things which are obvious, and make more
immediately to the Subject in Hand: For with-
out Question there is a certain Excellence and

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natural Beauty in the Figures and Forms of
Buildings, which immediately strike the Mind
with Pleasure and Admiration. It is my Opi-
nion, that Beauty, Majesty, Gracefulness, and
the like Charms, consist in those Particulars
which if you alter or take away, the Whole
would be made homely and disagreeable. If
we are convinced of this, it can be no very te-
dious Enquiry to consider those Things which
may be taken away, encreased or altered, espe-
cially in Figures and Forms: For every Body
consists of certain peculiar Parts, of which if
you take away any one, or lessen, or enlarge it,
or remove it to an improper Place; that which
before gave the Beauty and Grace to this Body
will at once be lamed and spoild. From hence
we may conclude, to avoid Prolixity in this
Research, that there are three Things princi-
pally in which the Whole of what we are look-
ing into consists: The Number, and that which
I have called the Finishing, and the Collocati-
on. But there is still something else besides,
which arises from the Conjunction and Con-
nection of these other Parts, and gives the
Beauty and Grace to the Whole: Which we
will call Congruity, which we may consider as
the Original of all that is graceful and hand-
some. The Business and Office of Congruity
is to put together Members differing from each
other in their Natures, in such a Manner, that
they may conspire to form a beautiful Whole:
So that whenever such a Composition offers it-
self to the Mind, either by the Conveyance of
the Sight, Hearing, or any of the other Senses,
we immediately perceive this Congruity: For
by Nature we desire Things perfect, and ad-
here to them with Pleasure when they are of-
fered to us; nor does this Congruity arise so
much from the Body in which it is found, or
any of its Members, as from itself, and from

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Nature, so that its true Seat is in the Mind and
in Reason; and accordingly it has a very large
Field to exercise itself and flourish in, and runs
through every Part and Action of Man’ s Life,
and every Production of Nature herself, which
are all directed by the Law of Congruity, nor
does Nature study any Thing more than to
make all her Works absolute and perfect, which
they could never be without this Congruity,
since they would want that Consent of Parts
which is so necessary to Perfection. But we
need not say more upon this Point, and if what
we have here laid down appears to be true, we
may conclude Beauty to be such a Consent and
Agreement of the Parts of a Whole in which it
is found, as to Number, Finishing and Collo-
cation, as Congruity, that is to say, the princi-
pal Law of Nature requires. This is what Ar-
chitecture chiefly aims at, and by this she ob-
tains her Beauty, Dignity and Value. The
Ancients knowing from the Nature of Things,
that the Matter was in Fact as I have here stat-
ed it, and being convinced, that if they neglect-
ed this main Point they should never produce
any Thing great or commendable, did in their
Works propose to themselves chiefly the Imi-
tation of Nature, as the greatest Artist at all
Manner of Compositions; and for this Puipose
they laboured, as far as the Industry of Man
could reach, to discover the Laws upon which
she herself acted in the Production of her
Works, in order to transfer them to the Busi-
ness of Architecture. Reflecting therefore up-
on the Practice of Nature as well with Relati-
on to an entire Body, as to its several Parts,
they found from the very first Principles of
Things, that Bodies were not always composed
of equal Parts or Members; whence it happens,
that of the Bodies produced by Nature, some
are smaller, some larger, and some middling:

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And considering that one Building differed
from another, upon account of the End for
which it was raised, and the Puipose which it
was to serve, as we have shewn in the sore-
going Books, they found it necessary to make
them of various Kinds. Thus from an Imi-
tation of Nature they invented three Manners
of adorning a Building, and gave them Names
drawn from their first Inventors. One was
better contrived for Strength and Duration:

This they called Doric; another was more ta-
per and beautiful, this they named Corinthian;
another was a Kind of Medium composed from
the other two, and this they called Ionic. Thus
much related to the whole Body in general.
Then observing, that those three Things which
we have already mentioned, namely, the Num-
ber, Finishing and Collocation, were what
chiefly conduced to make the whole beautiful,
they found how they were to make use of this
from a thorough Examination of the Works of
Nature, and, as I imagine, upon the following
Principles. The first Thing they observed, as
to Number, was that is was of two Sorts, even
and uneven, and they made use of both, but
in different Occasions: For, from the Imita-
tion of Nature, they never made the Ribs of
their Structure, that is to say, the Columns,
Angles and the like, in uneven Numbers; as
you shall not find any Animal that stands or

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moves upon an odd Number of Feet. On
the contrary, they made their Apertures al-
ways in uneven Numbers, as Nature herself
has done in some Instances, for tho’ in Ani-
mals she has placed an Ear, an Eye, and a
Nostril on each Side, yet the great Aperture,
the Mouth, she has set singly in the Middle.
But among these Numbers, whether even or
uneven, there are some which seem to be
greater Favourites with Nature than others,
and more celebrated among learned Men;
which Architects have borrowed for the Com-
position of the Members of their Edifices,
upon Account of their being endued with
some Qualities which make them more valu-
able than any others.

THUS all the Philosophers affirm, that Na-
ture herself consists in a ternary Principle;
and so the Number five, when we consider
the many Things, and those so admirable and
various, which either follow this Number in
themselves, or are derived from those Things
which do, must be allowed to be divine in its
Nature, and worthily dedicated to the Gods
of the Arts, and particularly to Mercury. It is
certain, that Almighty God himself, the Crea-
tor of all Things, takes particular Delight in
the Number Seven, having placed seven Pla-
nets in the Skies, and having been pleased to
ordain with Regard to Man, the Glory of his
Creation, that Conception, Growth, Maturity
and the like, should all be reduceable to this
Number Seven. Aristotle says, that the An-
cients never used to give a Child a Name, till
it was seven Days old, as not thinking it was
destined to Life before; because both the Seed
in the Womb, and the Child after its Birth, is
liable to very dangerous Accidents till the se-
venth Day is over. Among odd Numbers,

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1

that of Nine is highly celebrated, in which
Number that great Artist, Nature, made the
Spheres of Heaven; and the Philosophers say,
that Nature in many, and those the greatest
Things, is contented with making use of the
ninth Part of a Whole. Thus forty is about
the Ninth Part of all the Days of the Year,
according to the Revolution of the Sun, and
Hippocrates tells us, that in forty Days the
Foetus is formed in the Womb. Moreover we
find, that in the Generality of acute Distem-
pers, the Patient recovers at the End of forty
Days. At the End of the same Time Wo-
men that are with Child of a Male, cease their
Purgations, which, if they are delivered of a
Boy, after the same Term of forty Days, begin
afresh. They say further, that the Child itself
for forty Days is never seen either to laugh or
shed Tears while it is awake; tho’ in its Sleep
it will do both. And thus much of odd
Numbers.

As to even Numbers, some Philosophers
teach, that the Number four is dedicated to
the Deity, and for this Reason it was used in
the Taking the most solemn Oaths, which
were repeated four Times; and they tell us,
that even among the most excellent Numbers,
that of six is the most perfect, or consisting of
all its own entire Parts, for Example:

1 . 1 . 1 . 1 . 1 . 1 . 1 . 2 . 3 . 1 . 5 . 2 . 2 . 2 .

6 . 6 . 6 . 6 .

2 . 4 . 3 . 3 .

6 . 6 .

And it is certain, that the Number eight has
an extraordinary Power in the Nature of
Things. Except in /Egypt, we never find,
that any Child born in the eighth Month, lives

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1

long; nay, and even the Mother herself who
is is so delivered in the eighth Month, when
the Child is dead, will certainly, we are told,
die soon afterwards. If the Father touches
his Wife in the eighth Month, the Child will
be full of foul Humours, and its Skin will be
leprous and Scurfy, and nauseous to the Sight.
Aristotle was of Opinion, that the Number
ten was the most perfect of all, which was
probably because its square is composed of four
continued Cubes put together. Upon these
Accounts the Architects have most frequently
made use of the foregoing Numbers; but in
their Apertures they seldom have exceeded
that of ten for an even, or nine for an odd
Number, especially in Temples. We are now
to treat of the Finishing.

BY the Finishing I understand a certain
mutual Correspondence of those several Lines,
by which the Proportions are measured, where-
of one is the Length, the other the Breadth,
and the other the Height.

THE Rule of these Proportions is best ga-
thered from those Things in which we find
Nature herfelf to be most compleat and ad-
mirable; and indeed I am every Day more
and more convinced of the Truth of Pytha-
goras ‘ s Saying, that Nature is sure to act con-
sistently, and with a constant Analogy in all
her Operations: From whence I conclude,

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1

that the same Numbers, by means of which
the Agreement of Sounds affects our Ears with
Delight, are the very same which please our
Eyes and our Mind. We shall therefore bor-
row all our Rules for the finishing our Pro-
portions, from the Musicians, who are the
greatest Masters of this Sort of Numbers, and
srom those particular Things wherein Nature
shews herself most excellent and compleat:

Not that I shall look any further into these
Matters than is necessary for the Puipose of the
Architect. We shall not therefore pretend to
say any thing of Modulation, or the particular
Rules of any Instrument; but only speak of
those Points which are immediately to our Sub-
ject, which are these. We have already ob-
served, that Harmony is an Agreement of seve-
ral Tones, delightful to the Ears. Of Tones,
some are deep, some more acute. The deeper
Tones proceed from a longer String; and the
more acute, from a shorter: And from the mu-
tual Connection of these Tones arises all the
Variety of Harmony. This Harmony the An-
cients gathered from interchangeable Concords
of the Tones, by means of certain determinate
Numbers; the Names of which Concords are
as follows: Diapente, or the Fifth, which is
also called Sesquialtera: Diatessaron, or the
Fourth, called also, Sesquitertia: Diapason , or
the Eighth, also called the double Tone; Dia-
pason Diapente, the twelfth or triple Tone, and
Disdiapason, the fifteenth or Quadruple. To
these was added the Tonus, which was also
called the Sesquioctave. These several Con-
cords, compared with the Strings themselves,
bore the following Proportions. The Sesqui-
altera was so called, because the String which
produced it bore the same Proportion to that
to which it is compared, as one and an half
does to one; which was the Meaning of the

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1

Word Sesqui, among the Ancients. In the Ses-
quialtera therefore the longer String must be
allowed three, and the shorter, two.

3 000

Sesquialtera.

2 00

THE Sesquitertia is where the longer String
contains the shorter one and one third more:

The longer therefore must be as four, and the
shorter as three.

4 0000

Sesquitertia

3 000

BUT in that Concord which was called Dia-
pason, the Numbers answer to one another in
a double Proportion, as two to one, or the
Whole to the Hals: And in the Triple, they
answer as three to one, or as the Whole to one
third of itself.

2 00 300

Diapason, or double Triple
10 10

IN the Quadruple the Proportions are as
four to one, or as the Whole to its fourth Paid.

4 0000

Quadruple

1 0

LASTLY, all these musical Numbers are as
follows: One, two, three, four, and the Tone
before-mentioned, wherein the long String

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1

compared to the shorter, exceeds it one eighth
Part of that shorter String.

1.2. 3. 4. 8 00000000

Tone

Musical Numbers 9 00000000,0

OF all these Numbers the Architects made
very convenient Use, taking them sometimes
two by two, as in planning out their Squares
and open Areas, wherein only two Proporti-
ons were to be considered, namely, Length
and Breadth; and sometimes taking them three
by three, as in publick Flails, Council-cham-
bers, and the like; wherein as the Length was
to bear – a Proportion to the Breadth, so they
made the Fleight in a certain harmonious Pro-
portion to them both.

CHAP. VI.

Of the Proportions of Numbers in the Measuring of Areas, and the Rules for
some other Proportions drawn neither from natural Bodies, nor from Harmony.

Of these Proportions we are now to treat
more particularly, and first we shall say
something of those Areas where only two are
used. Of Areas, some are short, some long,
and some between both. The shortest of all
is the perfect Square, every Side whereof is of

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1

equal Length, all corresponding with one an-
other at Right Angles. The nearest to this is
the Sesquialtera, and the Sesquitertian also may
be reckoned among the shorter Areas. These
three Proportions therefore, which we may also
call simple, are proper for the smaller Plat-
forms. There are likewise three others, which
are proper for middling Platforms: The best
of all is the Double, and the next best is that
which is formed of the Sesquialtera doubled,
which is produced as follows: Having set
down the least Number of the Area, as, for
Instance, four, lengthen it to the first Sesqui-
altera, which will make six, and then add the
Sesquialtera of this six, which will produce
nine. Thus the Length will exceed the Breadth
in a double Proportion, and one Tone more.

4 0000

Sesquialtera

6 000000

9 000000000 Sesquialtera doubled

FOR moderate Platforms also, we may use
that Proportion which arises from the Sesqui-
tertian doubled in the same Manner as the for-
mer; wherein the Length and Breadth will
be as nine and sixteen.

9 000000000

Sesquitertia

12 000000000000

16 0000000000000000 Sesquitertia doubled

HERE the longer Line contains the shorter
twice, excluding one Tone of that shorter
Line. In the longest Areas we either add the
Duple to the Sesquialtera, which will produce
the Triple; or add the Sesquitertia to the

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1

Duple, which will make the Proportion as three
to eight; or lastly make the Lines correspond
to each other in a Quadruple Proportion. We
have now spoke of the shorter Platforms,
wherein the Numbers answer to each other
equally, as two to three, or three to four, and
of the Middling, wherein they correspond as
two to four, or as four to nine, or as nine to
sixteen: And lastly of the longest, wherein
the Numbers answer in a Triple or Quadruple
Proportion, or as three to eight. We may
join together or compound all the three Lines
of any Body whatsoever, by Means of these se-
veral Number, which are either innate with
Harmony itself, or produced from other
Proportions in a certain and regular Me-
thod. We find in Harmony those Num-
bers from whose mutual Relations we may
form their several Proporions, as in the Duple,
the Triple and the Quadruple. For In-
stance, the Duple is formed of the simple Ses-
quialtera, with the Addition of the Sesquitertia,
in the following Method. Let the least Num-
ber of the Duple be two; the Sesquialtera of
this is three, and the Sesquitertia of this Num-
ber three is four, which is just the Double of
two before-mentioned.

00

000 The Sesquialtera
0000 The Sesquitertia or Duple

OR else the same is done in the following
Manner: Let the smaller Number be, for In-
stance, three; I add one to make it a Sesqui-
tertia, and it becomes four, to which adding a
Sesquialtera, it makes it six, which, compared
to three, is just in a double Proportion.

000

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1

The Duple 0000 Sesquitertia
000000 Sesquialtera

THE Triple is likewise made of the Duple ,
and of the Sesquialtera joined together: For
Instance, let the smaller Number here be two;
this being doubled, makes four; to which
adding a Sesquialtera, it becomes six, which is
the Triple of two.

00

The Triple 0000 doubled

000000 Sesquialtera

OR the same Thing is done as follows;
placing the same Number of two for the
smaller Number, take the Sesquialtera, and
you will have three, which being doubled,
gives six, and so we shall have the Triple of
two.

00

The Triple 000 Sesquialtera
000000 doubled

BY Means of the same Extensions we may
produce the Quadruple, by compounding one
Duple with another, since it is indeed nothing
more than the Duple doubled, which is also
called Disdiapason, and is performed as follows:
Let the smaller Number here, for Instance, be
two; double this, and it makes the Diapason,
that is to say four, which is the Duple of two,
and doubling this four, it makes the Disdiapa-
son, which is as eight to two.

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1

00

The Quadruple. 0000 Diapason.

00000000 Disdiapason.
PLATE 64. (Page 199)

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1

THIS Quadruple may be also formed by
adding a Sesquialtera and a Sesquitertia to the
Duple; and how this is done, is manifest by
what we have said above: But for its clearer
Explanation, we shall give a further Instance
of it here. The Number two, for Example,
by Means of a Sesquialtera is made three, which
by a Sesquitertia becomes four, which four
being doubled makes eight.

00

000 Sesquialtera

The Quadruple.

0000 Sesquitertia

00000000 doubled

OR rather in the following Manner. Let us
take the Number three; this being doubled
makes six, to which adding another three, we
have nine, and adding to this a third of itself,
it produces twelve, which answers to three in a
Quadruple Proportion.

000

000000 doubled

The Quadruple

000000000 a third added
000000000000 a third added

THE Architects make use of all the several
Proportions here set down, not confusedly and
indistinctly, but in such Manner as to be con-
stantly and every way agreeable to Harmony:

As, for Instance, in the Elevation of a Room
which is twice as long as broad, they make
use, not of those Numbers which compose the
Triple, but of those only which form the
Duple; and the same in a Room whose Length
is three Times its Breadth, employing only its

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1

own proper Proportions, and no foreign ones,
that is to say, taking such of the triple Pro-
gressions above set down, as is most agreeable
to the Circumstances of their Structure. There
are some other natural Proportions for the Use
of Structures, which are not borrowed from
Numbers, but from the Roots and Powers of
Squares. The Roots are the Sides of square
Numbers: The Powers are the Areas of those
Squares: The Multiplication of the Areas
produce the Cubes. The first of all Cubes,
whose Root is one, is consecrated to the Deity,
because, as it is derived from One, So it is
One every Way; to which we may add, that
it is the most stable and constant of all Fi-
gures, and the very Basis of all the rest. But
if, as some affirm, the Unite be no Number,
but only the Source of all others, we may then
suppose the first Number to be the Number
two. Taking this Number two for the Root,
the Areas will be four, which being raised up
to a Fleight equal to its Root, will produce a
Cube of eight; and from this Cube we may
gather the Rules for our Proportions; for here
in the first Place, we may consider the Side of
the Cube, which is called the Cube Root,
whose Area will in Numbers be sour, and the
compleat or entire Cube be as eight. In the
next Place we may consider the Line drawn
from one Angle of the Cube to that which is
directly opposite to it, so as to divide the Area
of the Square into two equal Parts, and this is
called the Diagonal. What this amounts to
in Numbers is not known: Only it appears
to be the Root of an Area, which is as Eight
on every Side; besides which it is the Diago-
nal of a Cube which is on every Side, as twelve,

Fig. 1.

668

LASTLY, In a Triangle whose two shortest
Sides form a Right Angle, and one of them
the Root of an Area, which is every Way as
four, and the other of one, which is as twelve,
the longst Side subtended opposite to that
Right Angle, will be the Root of an Area,
will be the Root of an Area, which is as six-
teen Fig. 2.

  • THESE several Rules which we have here
    set down for the determining of Proportions,
    are the natural and proper Relations of Num-
    bers and Quantities, and the general Method
    for the Practice of them all is, that the shortest
    Line be taken for the Breadth of the Area,
    the longest for the Length, and the middle
    Line for the Height, tho’ sometimes sor the
    Convenience of the Structure, they are inter-
    changed. We are now to say something of
    the Rules of those Proportions, which are not
    derived from Harmony or the natural Pro-
    portions of Bodies, but are borrowed elsewhere
    for determining the three Relations of an
    Apartment; and in order to this we are to
    observe, that there are very useful Considera-
    tions in Practice to be drawn from the Musi-
    cians, Geometers, and even the Arithmeticians,
    of each of which we are now to speak. These
    the Philosophers call Mediocrates, or Means ,
    and the Rules for them are many and various;
    but there are three particularly which are the
    most esteemed; of all which the Puipose is,
    that the two Extreams being given, the middle
    Mean or Number may correspond with them
    in a certain detemined Manner, or to use

1

such an Expression, with a regular Affinity.
Our Business, in this Enquiry, is to consider
three Terms, whereof the two most remote
are one the greatest, and the other the least;
the third or mean Number must answer to

670

1

these other two in a just Relation or proporti-
onate Interval, which Interval is the equal re-
lative Distance which this Number stands from
the other two. Of the three Methods most
approved by the Philosophers for finding this
Mean, that which is called the arithmetical is
the most easy, and is as follows. Taking the
two extreme Numbers, as for Instance, eight
for the greatest, and four for the least, you add
them together, which produce twelve, which
twelve being divided in two equal Parts, gives
us six.

8 4

12
6

THIS Number six the Arithmeticians say, is
the Mean, which standing between four and
eight, is at an equal Distance from each of
them.

  1. 6. 4.

THE next Mean is that which is called the
Geometrical, and is taken thus. Let the small-
est Number, for Example, four, be multiplied
by the greatest, which we shall suppose to be
nine; the Multiplication will produce 36:

The Root of which Sum as it is called, or the
Number of its Side being multiplied by itself
must also produce 36. The Root therefore
will be six, which multiplied by itself is 36,
and this Number six, is the Mean.

4 Times 9 36
6 Times 6 36

THIS geometrical Mean is very difficult to

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1

find by Numbers, but it is very clear by Lines;
but of those it is not my Business to speak
here. The third Mean, which is called the
Musical, is somewhat more difficult to work
than the Arithmetical; but, however, may be
very well performed by Numbers. In this the
Proportion between the least Term and the
greatest, must be the same as the Distance be-
tween the least and the Mean, and between the
Mean and the greatest, as in the following Ex-
ample. Of the two given Numbers, let the
least be thirty, and the greatest sixty, which is
just the Double of the other. I take such
Numbers as cannot be less to be double, and
these are one, for the least, and two, for the
greatest, which added together make three. I
then divide the whole Interval which was be-
tween the greatest Number, which was sixty,
and the least, which was thirty, into three
Parts, each of which Parts therefore will be
ten, and one of these three Parts I add to the
least Number, which will make it forty; and
this will be the musical Mean desired.

30 60

1 2

3

3 30

10
30
10

30 40 60

AND this mean Number forty will be dis-
tant from the greatest Number just double the
Interval which the Number of the Mean is
distant from the least Number; and the Con-
dition was, that the greatest Number should
bear that Portion to the least. By the Help of

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1

these Mediocrites the Architects have discover-
ed many excellent Things, as well with Rela-
tion to the whole Structure, as to its several
Parts; which we have not Time here to par-
ticularize. But the most common Use they
have made of these Mediocrities, has been how-
ever for their Elevations.

CHAP. VII.

Of the Invention of Columns, their Dimensions and Collocation.

It will not be unpleasant to consider some
further Particulars relating to the three
Sorts of Columns which the Ancients invent-
ed, in three different Points of Time: And it
is not at all improbable, that they borrowed the
Proportions of their Columns from that of the
Members of the human Body. Thus they
found that from one Side of a Man to the
other was a sixth Part of his Height, and that
from the Navel to the Reins was a tenth. From
this Observation the Interpreters of our sacred
Books, are of Opinion, that Noah ’ s Ark for
the Flood was built according to the Propor-
tions of the human Body. By the same Pro-
portions we may reasonably conjecture, that the
Ancients erected their Columns, making the
Height in some six Times, and in others ten
Times, the Diameter of the Bottom of the

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1

Shast. But from that natural Instinct or Sense
in the Mind by which, as we have already ob-
served, we judge of Beauty and Gracefulness,
they found, that one of these was too thick and
the other too slight; for which Reason they
altered them both, rightly supposing that the
Truth must lie in some Medium between these
two vitious Extremes. Accordingly, with the
Help of the Rules of the Arithmeticians, they
joined their two Numbers together, and divid-
ed the Total in half, and then they found that
the mean Number between six and ten was
eight: Whereupon they made the Height of
their Column eight Times the Diameter of the
Bottom of the Shaft; and this they called the
Ionic. They also formed their Doric Column,
which is proper for Buildings of greater Solidi-
ty, by the same Rules. For Example, they
joined the smaller Number before-mentioned,
which was six, with the Ionic mean, which was
eight, whereof the Total was fourteen; this
Total they divided into two equal Parts, and
this gave them the Number seven, which they
took for their Doric Column, making its Length
seven Times the Diameter of the Bottom of the
Shaft. Lastly, they made their thinnest Order,
which they called the Corinthian, from the Ionic
mean Number joined to the greatest of the for-
mer Numbers, and so taking the Half as
before; for the Ionic mean Number was eight,
and the greatest Number was ten, which add-
ed together made eighteen, the Half whereof
was nine, whence they made the Height of
their Corinthian Column nine Times the Dia-
meter of the Bottom of its Shaft, as they did
the Ionic eight, and the Doric seven: Of which
we need say no more in this Place. We are
now to say something of the Collocation, which
relates to the Situation of the several Parts;
and this is much easier to conceive where it is

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1

ill done, than it is to lay down exact Rules for
the doing it: Because indeed it is chiefly to be
referred to the natural Judgment which we
have formerly observed to be innate in the
Mind of Man, though it may in some Mea-
sure be derived from the foregoing Rules for
the Finishing. Flowever, we shall just men-
tion a few general Remarks upon this Flead.

The very smallest Parts or Members of the
Work, if they are set in their right Places, add
to the Beauty of the whole; if they are placed
in mean or improper Situations, though excel-
lent in themselves, they become mean. We
see the very same Thing in the Works of Na-
ture: As for Instance, if a Dog had one Ea
like that of an Ass, or if a Man had one Foot
bigger than the other, or one Fland very large,
and the other very small, we should immedi-
ately pronounce such a one deformed; or to
see even an Florse with one Eye grey, and the
other black, is very offensive: So agreeable it
is to Nature, that the Members on the right
Side should exactly answer the left: Wherefore
the very first Thing we are to take Care of
must be, that every Part, even the most Incon-
siderable, lie duly to the Level and Plum-line,
and be disposed with an exact Correspondence
as to the Number, Form and Appearance; so
that the Right may answer to the Left, the
Fligh to the Low, the Similar to the Similar, so
as to form a correspondent Ornament in that
Body whereof they are Parts. Even Statues,
Pictures, or any other Ornaments of that Sort
with which we embellish our Work, must be so
disposed as to seem to have sprung up naturally
in their properest Places, and to be Twins. The
Ancients were so punctual in this mutual Cor-
respondence of the Parts, that even in fixing
up their Scantlings of Marble, they used to
make them answer each other exactly to a

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1

Size, Quality, Angles, Situation and Colour:
And especially in those most beautiful Orna-
ments, Statues, wherein the Ancients were such
great Masters, and in which I so much admire
the Excellence of Art, they were careful in fix-
ing them up, as well on Pediments of their
Temples, as elsewhere, that those on one Side
should not differ from those on the other, in
the smallest Particular either of Design or Ma-
terial. We see Statues of two or four Horses,
and of their Drivers and Lookers on so exact-
ly like to each other, that Art in them may be
said to have exceeded Nature, in whose Works
we hardly ever see one Feature so exactly like
the other. Thus we have shewn what is Beauty,
and wherein it consists, and with what Num-
bers and Finishing the Ancients used to erect
their Structures.

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1

CHAP. VIII.

Some short, but general Observations which may be looked upon as Laws in the
Business of Building and Ornamen t.

I shall here put together some short and ge-
neral Admonitions, which are absolutely
necessary to be observed as so many Laws, as
well in Point of Ornament or Embellishment,
as in all the other Parts of Architecture. And
this may serve to acquit us of the Promise
which we made of taking a short Review of
the whole Work by Way of Epilogue. First
therefore, as we laid it down for a Rule at the
Beginning, that all Errors which any Ways de-
form the Structure were to be avoided princi-
pally: We will now speak in the first Place of
such Errors, and especially of the greatest. Er-
rors arise either from the Judgement, and lie
either in the Design or Election; or from the
Hand, and lie in the Workmen’ s Execution.

The Errors of the Judgment are both in Time
and in their Nature of much the greatest Im-
portance, and when committed, less capable of
being remedied. With these therefore we shall
begin. The first Error is to chuse for your
Structure a Region which is unhealthy, not
peaceable, barren, unfortunate, melancholy, or
afflicted with Calamities, either apparent or
concealed. The next Errors to this are chus-
ing a Platform not proper or convenient; add-
ing one Member to another, without constant
Regard to the Accommodation of the Inhabi-
tants, and not providing fit and suitable Con-
veniences for every Rank and Degree of them,
as well Masters as Servants, Citizens as Rus-
ticks. Inmates as Visitants: Making your Build-
ing either too large and spacious, or too small
and narrow; too open and naked, or too much
shut in and confined; too much crowded, or

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1

too rambling with too many Apartments, or
too few: If there be a Want of Rooms where
you may secure yourself against excessive Heats,
or excessive Colds, of Places where you may
exercise and divert yourself when you are in
Health, and of others where you may be suf-
ficiently sheltered against any Inclemency of
Air when you are sick: To which add the
Structures not being sufficiently strong, and as
we may say, fortified to be safe against any sud-
den Attack: If the Wall be either so slight as
not to be sufficiently strong to support itself
and the Roof, or much thicker than Necessity
requires, if the different Roofs bespatter each
other with their Waters, or throw them against
any Paid of the Wall, or near the Entrances:

If they be either too low, or too high: If your
Windows be too wide, and admit unwhole-
some Winds, noxious Dews, or too much burn-
ing Sun; or, on the other Hand, if they be so
narrow as to occasion a melancholy Gloom:

If they break into any of the Ribs of the Build-
ing: If the Passages are any Ways obstructed,
or lead us to any Object that is offensive: Or,
in short, if any of those other Instructions are
neglected, which we have given in the preced-
ing Books. Among the Errors in Ornament,
the Principal, in Architecture as in Nature, is
making any Thing preposterous, maimed, ex-
cessive, or any other Ways unsightly: For if
these Things are reckoned defective and mon-
strous in Nature herself, what must we say of
an Architect that throws the Parts of his Struc-
tures into such improper Forms? And as the
Parts whereof those Forms consist, are Fines,
Angles, Extension, and the like, it is certainly
true, that there can be no Error or Deformity
more absurd and shocking, than the mixing
together either Angles or Fines, or Superficies
which arc not in Number, Size and Situation

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1

equal to each other, and which are not blended
together with the greatest Care and Accuracy.
And indeed who can avoid blaming a Man ex-
tremely, that without being forced to it by any
Manner of Necessity, draws his Wall crooked
and askew, winding this way and that like a
Worm crawling upon the Ground, without
any Rule or Method, with one Side long, and
another short, without any Equality of Angles,
or the least Connection with Regal’d to each
other; making his Platform with an obtuse
Angle on one Side, and an acute one on the
other, and doing every Thing with Confusion,
Absurdity and at a Venture: It is another
great Error to have raised your Structure in
such a Manner, that, though indeed with Re-
lation to its Platform, it is not amiss, yet, not-
withstanding it may be in very great Want of
Ornament, it may be utterly incapable of any

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Sort of Embellishment as if all you consulted
in raising your Wall, was to sustain the Roof,
not leaving any Space where you can after-
wards conveniently or distinctly add either the
Dignity of Columns, the Embellishment of Sta-
tues, the Majesty of Picture, or the Delicacy
of any Incrustation. An Error of much the
same Nature as this is, the Building with so
little Consideration, that though the same Ex-
pence might make our Structure beautiful and
graceful, yet we neglect the Pains and Con-
trivance of effecting it: For it is undeniable
that there may be in the mere Form or Figure
of a Building, an innate Excellence and Beau-
ty, which strikes and delights the Mind, and
is immediately perceived where it is, as much
as it is missed where it is not; for, indeed, the
Eye is naturally a Judge and Lover of Beauty
and Gracefulness, and is very critical and hard
to please in it; neither can I give any Account
why it should always happen, that we should
be much more offended at what is wanting,
than ready to commend what is done well;
for still we are continually thinking what fur-
ther might be added to make the Object still
more splendid, and are naturally displeased if
any thing is omitted, which the most accurate,
ingenious, and diligent Artist might possibly
have procured: So that indeed we are often at
a Loss to say what it is offends us, unless it be
that there is not wherewithal fully to satisfy our
immoderate Desire of Perfection. This being
the true State of the Case, we should certainly
endeavour, as much as in us lies, by the great-
est Study and Care, to make whatever Struc-
ture we raise as handsome, and as compleatly
adorned as possibly, especially if it be such a
one as every body expects to see in the utmost
Perfection, as, for Instance, a publick Structure,
and particularly a sacred one, which no Man

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can bear to see naked of Ornament. It is an-
other Error to apply the Ornaments peculiar to
a publick Structure, to a private one; or, on
the other Hand, those peculiar to private Edi-
fices to one of a publick Nature: Especially if
such Ornaments are any thing petty, or not
durable, as, for Instance, to dish up a publick
Structure with slight or paultry Painting; for
every Thing used about a publick Edifice ought,
if possible, to be eternal. It is another gross
Error, which we see some ridiculous People
run into, who e’ er they have well begun their
Building, fall to painting it, and decking it with
Statues and other Embellishments without
Number; ah which are sure to be spoiled and
demolished before the Building is finished.

We should erect our Building naked, and let
it be quite compleated before we begin to
dress it with Ornaments, which should always
be our last Work, being best done at leasure,
when we can do it without any Impediment,
and can take the Advantage of such Opportu-
nities as may offer for that Purpose. I would
have the Ornaments which you affix to your
Structure, to be the Work of various Hands,
and those moderate Masters; but if you can
procure any rare Pieces of greater Excellence
and Perfection, Statues and Pictuaes like those
of a Phidias or a Zeuxis, let them be fixed only
in Places of peculiar Dignity and Honour. I
cannot commend Dejoces the King of Media,
who encompassed his City of Ecbatana with
seven Walls, and made each of them of diffe-
rent Colours, one Purple, another Blue, another
gilt with Silver, and one even with Gold; nor can
I help blaming Caligula, who made his Stable
of Marble, and the Manger of Ivory. A11 that
New built was covered with Gold and enriched
with Gems. Heliogabalus was still more ex-
travagantly profuse, for he paved his Apart-

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ments with Gold, and grieved that he could
not do it with Amber. Contempt is the best
Reward for these wild Prodigals who are os-
tentatious of such Vain-glories, or rather Fol-
lies, and who are thus profuse of the Labours
and Sweat of Mankind, about Things which
are of no Manner of Use or Advantage to the
main Structure, nor capable of raising the least
Admiration either for Ingenuity or Contrivance.

I THEREFORE over and over again advise you
to avoid these Errors; and before you begin
your Work, thoroughly consider the whole
Design your self, and take the Advice of Men
of Skill upon it; be sure to have a compleat
Model of the Whole, by which examine every
minute Paid of your future Structure eight,
nine, ten Times over, and again, after different
Intermissions of Times; till there be not the
least Member from the Foundation to the
Roof of your whole Building, within or without,
great or small, but what you have throughly
and long weighed and considered, and deter-
mined of what Materials it shall be made,
where placed, in what Order and Proportions,
and to what it shall answer and bear Relation.

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CHAP. IX.

The Business and Duty of a good Architect, and wherein the Excellence of the
Ornaments consists.

A Prudent Architect will proceed in the
Method which we have been just laying
down. He will never set about his Work without
proper Caution and Advice. He will study the
Nature and Strength of the Soil where he is to
build, and observe, as well from a Survey of
Structures in the Neighbourhood, as from the
Practice and Use of the Inhabitants, what Ma-
terials, what Sort of Stone, Sand, Lime or
Timber, whether found on the Place, or
brought from other Parts, will best stand against
the Injuries of the Weather. He will set
out the exact Breadth and Depth of the Foun-
dations, and of the Basement of the whole
Wall, and take an Account of every Thing
that is necessary for the Building, whether for
the outward Coat or the filling up, for the Li-
gatures, the Ribs, or the Apertures, the Roof,
the Incrustation, for Pavements abroad, or
Floors within; he will direct which Way,
and by what Method every thing superfluous,
noxious or offensive shall be carried off by
Drains for conveying away the rain Water,
and keeping the Foundations dry, and by pro-
per Defences against any moist Vapours, or
even against any unexpected Floods or Vio-
lence from Winds or Storms. In a Word,
he will give Directions for every single Part,
and not suffer any thing to escape his Notice
and Decree. And tho’ all these Particulars seem
chiefly to relate to Convenience and Stability,
yet they carry this along with them, that if
neglected they destroy all the Beauty and Or-
nament of the Edifice. Now the Rules which
give the Ornaments themselves their main Ex-

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cellence, are as follows. First all your Orna-
ments must be exactly regular, and perfectly
distinct, and without Confusion: Your Em-
bellishments must not be too much crowded
together or scattered as it were under Foot, or
thrown on in Fleaps, but so aptly and neatly
distributed, that whoever should go about to
alter their Situation, should be sensible that
he destroyed the whole Beauty and Delicacy
of the Work. There is no Paid whatsoever
but what the Artist ought to adorn; but there
is no Occasion that all should be adorned
equally, or that every thing should be enriched
with equal Expence; for indeed I would not
have the Merit of the Work consist so much
in Plenty as in Variety. Let the Builder fix
his richest Ornaments in the principal Places;
those of a middling Sort, in Places of less Note,
and the meanest in the meanest. And here
he should be particularly careful, not to mix
what is rich with any thing trifling, nothing
little with what is great, nor to set any thing
too large or high in narrow or close Places;
tho’ things which are not equal to each other
in Dignity, nor alike even in Species, may very
well be placed together, so it be done artfully
and ingeniously, and in such a Manner, that
as the one appears solemn and majestick, the
other may shew chearful and pleasant, and that
they may not only unite their different Beau-
ties for the Embellishment of the Structure,
but also seem as if the one without the other
had been imperfect; nor may it be amiss in
some certain Places to intermix somewhat even
of a coarse Sort, that what is noble may re-
ceive a yet further Addition from the Com-
parison: Always be sure never to make a Con-
fusion of the Orders, which will happen if you
mix the Doric Members with the Corinthian ,
as I observed before, or the Corinthian with

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the Ionic, or the like. Let every Order have
its own regular Members, and those all in their
proper Places, that nothing may appear per-
plexed or broken. Let such Ornaments as are
proper to the Middle be placed in the Middle,
and let those which are at equal Distances on
each Side, be proportioned exactly alike. In
short, let every thing be measured, and put to-
gether with the greatest Exactness of Lines and
Angles, that the Beholder’ s Eye may have a
clear and distinct View along the Cornices, be-
tween the Columns on the Inside and without,
receiving every Moment fresh Delight from the
Variety he meets with, insomuch, that after the
most careful and even repeated Views, he shall
not be able to depart without once more turn-
ing back to take another Look, nor, upon the
most critical Examination, be able in any Part
of the whole Structure to find one Thing un-

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1

equal, incongruous, out of Proportion, or not
conducive to the general Beauty of the Whole.

All these Particular’s you must provide for by
means of your Model; and from thence too
you should before-hand consider not only what
the Building is that you are to erect, but also
get together all the Materials you shall want
for the Execution, that when you have begun
your Work you may not be at a Loss, or
change or supersede your Design: but having
before-hand made Provision of every Thing that
you shall want, you may be able to keep your
Workmen constantly supplied with all their Ma-
terials. These are the Things which the Archi-
tect is to take care of with the greatest Dili-
gence and Judgement. The Errors which
may happen in the manual Execution of the
Work, need not be repeated here; but only
the Workmen should be well looked after, to
see that they work exactly by their Square,

Level and Plumb-line; that they do their
Business at the proper Seasons, take proper Sea-
sons to let their Work rest, and at proper Sea-
sons go to it again; that they use good Stuff,
sound, unmixed, solid, strong, and suitable to
the Work, and that they use it in proper Places,
and finish every Thing according to their Mo-
del.

CHAP. X.

What it is that an Architect ought principally to consider, and what Sciences
he ought to be acquainted with.

But to the Intent that the Architect may
come off worthily and honourably in
preparing, ordering and accomplishing all
these Things, there are some necessary Ad-
monitions, which he should by no means ne-
glect. And first he ought to consider well

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1

what Weight he is going to take upon his
Shoulders, what it is that he professes, what
Manner of Man he would be thought, how
great a Business he undertakes, how much Ap-
plause, Profit, Favour and Fame among Pos-
terity he will gain when he executes his Work
as he ought, and on the contrary, if he goes
about any thing ignorantly, unadvisedly, or in-
considerately, to how much Disgrace, to how
much Indignation he exposes himself, what a
clear, manifest and everlasting Testimony he
gives Mankind of his Folly and Indiscretion.
Doubtless Architecture is a very noble Science,
not fit for every Flead. Fie ought to be a Man
of a fine Genius, of a great Application, of the
best Education, of thorough Experience, and
especially of strong Sense and sound Judge-
ment, that presumes to declare himself an
Architect. It is the Business of Architecture,
and indeed its highest Praise, to judge rightly
what is fit and decent: For though Building is
a Matter of Necessity, yet convenient Building
is both of Necessity and Utility too: But to
build in such a Manner, that the Generous shall
commend you, and the Frugal not blame you,
is the Work only of a prudent, wise and learn-
ed Architect. To run up any thing that is
immediately necessary for any particular Pur-
pose, and about which there is no doubt of
what Sort it should be, or of the Ability of
the Owner to afford it, is not so much the
Business of an Architect, as of a common
Workman: But to raise an Edifice which is to
be compleat in every Part, and to consider and
provide before-hand every Thing necessary for
such a Work, is the Business only of that ex-
tensive Genius which I have described above:
For indeed his Invention must be owing to his
Wit, his Knowledge, to Experience, his Choice
to Judgment, his Composition to Study, and

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the Completion of his Work to his Perfection
in his Art; of all which Qualifications I take
the Foundation to be Prudence and mature
Deliberation. As to the other Virtues, Hu-
manity, Benevolence, Modesty, Probity; I do
not require them more in the Architect, than
I do in every other Man, let him profess what
Art he will: For indeed without them I do
not think any one worthy to be deemed a Man:
But above all Things he should avoid Levity,
Obstinacy, Ostentation, Intemperance, and all
those other Vices which may lose him the good
Will of his Fellow-Citizens, and make him
odious to the World. Lastly, in the Study of
his Art I would have him follow the Example
of those that apply themselves to Letters: For
no Man thinks himself sufficiently learned in
any Science, unless he has read and examined
all the Authors, as well bad as good that have
wrote in that Science which he is pursuing. In

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1

the same Manner I would have the Architect
diligently consider all the Buildings that have
any tolerable Reputation; and not only so, but
take them down in Lines and Numbers, nay,
make Designs and Models of them, and by
means of those, consider and examine the Or-
der, Situation, Sort and Number of every Part
which others have employed, especially such as
have done any thing very great and excellent,
whom we may reasonably suppose to have
been Men of very great Note, when they were
intrusted with the Direction of so great an Ex-
pence. Not that I would have him admire a
Structure merely for being huge, and imagine
that to be a sufficient Beauty; but let him
principally enquire in every Building what
there is particularly artful and excellent for
Contrivance or Invention, and gain a Habit of
being pleased with nothing but what is really
elegant and praise-worthy for the Design: And
where-ever he finds any thing noble, let him
make use of it, or imitate it in his own Per-
formances; and when he sees any thing well
done, that is capable of being still further im-
proved and made delicate, let him study to
bring it to Perfection in his own Works; and
when he meets with any Design that is only
not absolutely bad, let him try in his own
Things to work it if possible into something
excellent. Thus by a continued and nice Ex-
amination of the best Productions, still con-
sidering what Improvements might be made in
every thing that he sees, he may so exercise
and sharpen his own Invention, as to collect
into his own Works not only all the Beauties
which are dispersed up and down in those of
other Men, but even those which lie in a Man-
ner concealed in the most hidden Recesses of
Nature, to his own immortal Reputation. Not
satisfied with this, he should also have an Am-

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bition to produce something admirable, which
may be entirely of his own Invention; like him,
for Instance, who built a Temple without using
one iron Tool in it; or him that brought the
Colossus to Rome, suspended all the Way up-
right, in which Work we may just mention
that he employed no less than four-and-twenty
Elephants; or like an Artist that in only seem-
ingly working a common Quarry of Stone,
should cut it out into a Labyrinth, a Temple,
or some other useful Structure, to the Surprise
of all Mankind. We are told that Nero used
to employ miraculous Architects, who never
thought of any Invention, but what it was al-
most impossible for the Skill of Man to reduce
to practice. Such Geniusses I can by no mean
approve of; for, indeed, I would have the
Architect always appeal – to have consulted Ne-
cessity and Convenience in the first Place, even
tho’ at the very same Time his principal Care
has been Ornament. If he can make a hand-
some Mixture of the noble Orders of the An-
cients, with any of the new Inventions of the
Moderns, he may deserve Commendation. In
this Manner he should be continually improv-
ing his Genius by Use and Exercise in such
Things as may conduce to make him Excel-
lent in this Science; and indeed, he should
think it becomes him to have not only that
Knowledge, without which he would not real-
ly be what he professed himself; but he should
also adorn his Mind with such a Tincture of
all the liberal Arts, as may be of Service to
make him more ready and ingenious at his own,
and that he may never be at a Loss for any
Helps in it which Learning can furnish him
with. In short, he ought still to be persever-
ing in his Study and Application, till he finds
himself equal to those great Men, whose Praises
are capable of no further Addition: Nor let

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1

him ever be satisfied with himself, if there
is that Thing any where that can possibly be
of Use to him, and that can be obtained either
by Diligence or Thought, which he is not
thoroughly Master of, till he is arrived at the
Summit of Perfection in the Art which he
professes. The Arts which are useful, and in-
deed absolutely necessary to the Architect, arc
Painting and Mathematicks. I do not require
him to be deeply learned in the rest; for I
think it ridiculous, like a certain Author, to
expect that an Architect should be a profound
Lawyer, in order to know the Right of con-
veying Water or placing Limits between Neigh-
bours, and to avoid falling into Controversies
and Lawsuits as in Building is often the Case:
Nor need he be a perfect Astronomer, to know
that Libraries ought to be situated to the
North, and Stoves to the South; nor a very
great Musician, to place the Vases of Copper
or Brass in a Theatre for assisting the Voice:
Neither do I require that he should be an Ora-
tor, in order to be able to display to any Per-
son that would employ him, the Services which
he is capable of doing him; for Knowledge,
Experience and perfect Mastery in what he is
to speak of, will never fail to help him to
Words to explain his Sense sufficiently, which
indeed is the first and main End of Eloquence.
Not that I would have him Tongue-tied, or so

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deficient in his Ears, as to have no Taste for
Harmony: It may suffice if he does not build
a private Man’ s House upon the publick
Ground, or upon another Man’ s: If he does
not annoy the Neighbours, either by his Lights,
his Spou s, his Gutters, his Drains, or by ob-
structing their Passage contrary to Law: If he
knows the several Winds that blows from the
different Points of the Compass, and their
Names; in all which Sciences there is no Harm
indeed in his being more expert; but Painting
and Mathematicks are what he can no more be
without, than a Poet can be without the
Knowledge of Feet and Syllables; neither do
I know whether it be enough for him to be only
moderately tinctured with them. This I can say of
myself, that I have often started in my Mind Ideas
of Buildings, which have given me wonderful
Delight: Wherein when I have come to re-
duce them into Lines, I have found in those
very Parts which most pleased me, many gross
Errors that required great Correction; and up-
on a second Review of such a Draught, and
measuring every Paid by Numbers, I have been
sensible and ashamed of my own Inaccuracy.
Lastly, when I have made my Draught into a
Model, and then proceeded to examine the se-
veral Parts over again, I have sometimes found
myself mistaken, even in my Numbers. Not
that I expected my Architect to be a Zeuxis in
Painting, nor a Nicomachus at Numbers, nor an
Archimedes in the Knowledge of Lines and
Angles: It may serve his Puipose if he is a
thorough Master of those Elements of Painting
which I have wrote; and if he is skilled in so
much practical Mathematicks, and in such a
Knowledge of mixed Lines, Angles and Num-
bers, as is necessary for the Measuring of
Weights, Superficies and Solids, which Paid of
Geometry the Greeks call Podismata and Em-

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1

boda. With these Arts, joined to Study and
Application, the Architect may be sure to ob-
tain Favour and Riches, and to deliver his
Name with Reputation down to Posterity.

CHAP. XI.

To what Sort of Persons the Architect ought to offer his Sendee.

There is one Thing that I must not
omit here, which relates personally to
the Architect. It is, that you should not im-
mediately run and offer your Service to every
Man that gives out he is going to build; a
Fault which the inconsiderate and vain-glori-
ous are too apt to be guilty of. I know not
whether you ought not to wait till you are
more than once importuned to be concerned.

Certainly they ought to repose a free and vo-
luntary Confidence in you, that want to make
use of your Labours and Advice. Why should
I offer those Inventions which have cost me so
much Study and Pains, to gain perhaps no
other Recompence, but the Confidence of a
few Persons of no Taste or Skill? If by my
Advice in the Execution of your intended
Work, I either save you from an unnecessary
Expence, or procure you some great Conveni-
ence or Pleasure; surely such a Service de-
serves a suitable Recompence. For this Rea-
son a prudent Man should take care to main-
tain his Reputation; and certainly it is enough
if you give honest Advice, and correct Draughts
to such as apply themselves to you. If after-
wards you undertake to supervise and com-
pleat the Work, you will find it very difficult
to avoid being made answerable for all the
Faults and Mistakes committed either by the
Ignorance or Negligence of other Men: Upon
which Account you must take care to have

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1

the Assistance of honest, diligent, and severe
Overseers to look after the Workmen under
you. I would also have you, if possible, con-
cern yourself for none but Persons of the highest
Rank and Quality, and those too such as are
truly Lovers of these Arts: Because your Work
loses of its Dignity by being done for mean
Persons. Do you not see what Weight the
Authority of great Men is to advance the Re-
putation of those who are employed by them?
And, indeed, I insist the more upon this Piece
of Advice, not only because the World has
generally a higher Opinion of the Taste and
Judgment of great Men, than for the most
Part they deserve, but also because I would
have the Architect always readily and plen-
tifully supplied with every thing that is ne-
cessary for compleating his Edifice; which
those of lower Degree are commonly not so
able, and therefore not so willing to do: to
which add, what we find very frequent Instances
of, that where the Design and Invention has
been perfectly equal in two different Works,

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1

one has been much more esteemed than the
other, for the Sake of the Superiority of the
Materials. Lastly, I advise you not to be so
far carried away by the Desire of Glory, as
rashly to attempt any thing entirely new and
unusual: Therefore be sure to examine and
consider thoroughly what you are going to un-
dertake, even in its minutest Parts; and re-
member how difficult it is to find Workmen
that shall exactly execute any extraordinary
Idea which you may form, and with how much
Grudging and Unwillingness People will spend
their Money in making Trial of your Fancies.
Lastly, beware of that very common Fault, by
means of which there are so few great Struc-
tures but what have some unpardonable Ble-
mishes. We always find People very ready to
criticize, and fond of being thought Counsel-
lors and Directors. Now as, by reason of the
Shortness of Man’ s Life, few great Works are
compleated by the first Undertaker, we that
succeed him, either out of Envy or Officious-
ness, are vain of making some Alteration in his
original Design. By this means what was well
begun is spoiled in the finishing. For this Rea-
son I think we should adhere to the original
Design of the Inventor, who we are to suppose
had maturely weighed and considered it. It is
possible he might have some wise Inducement
to do what he did, which upon a more dili-
gent and attentive Examination, you may at
length discover yourself. If however you do
make any Alteration, never do it without the
Advice, or rather absolute Direction of the most
approved and experienced Masters: By which
means you will both provide for the Necessi-
ties of the Structure, and secure yourself against
the Malice of envious Tongues. We have now
treated of publick Buildings, and of private; of
sacred, and of profane; of those which relate

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to Dignity, and those of Pleasure. What re-
mains is to shew how any Defects in an Edi-
fice, which have arisen either from Ignorance
or Negligence, from the Violence of Men or
Times, or from unfortunate and unforeseen
Accidents, may be repaired and amended:
Still hoping that these Arts will meet with the
Favour and Protection of the Learned.

The End of Book IX.

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1

THE

ARCHITECTURE

OF

Leone Batista Alberti.

BOOK X. CHAP. I.

Of the Defects in Buildings, whence they proceed, and their differen t Sorts;
which of them can be corrected by the Architect, and which cannot; and the
various Causes of a bad Air.

Since in the Remainder of this
Work we are to treat of the correct-
ing the several Defects in Building,
it is necessary first to consider what
those Defects are which are capable of Emen-
dation by the Hand of Man: As the Physici-
ans think that the Knowledge of the Patient’ s
Distemper, is the greatest Step towards his
Cure. Of the Defects in Buildings, as well
publick as private, some are innate and owing
to the Architect, and others proceed from fo-
reign Causes: And again, of these some are
capable of being repaired by Art and Contri-
vance, and others will not possibly admit of
any Remedy. What those are which are owing
to the Architect, we have pointed out so plain-
ly in the last Book, that a Repetition of them
here is not necessary, having there shewn that
some are the Errors of the Mind, some of the
Hand; that those of the Mind are an injudici-
ous Election, an inconvenient Compartition,
an improper Distribution, or confused Pro-
portions; whereas those of the Hand are an
inaccurate or inconsiderate Preparation, Col-
lection, Working, and putting together the
Materials: Faults which the Negligent and
Unadvised easily fall into. But the Defects
which proceed from foreign Causes are scarcely
to be numbered for their Multiplicity and Va-

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1

riety : Of which Causes the first is that which
is said to overcome all Things, Time, whose
Violence is no less deceitful than it is power-
ful, nor can any Sort of Bodies elude that great
Law of Nature, of Feeling the Decays of old
Age; insomuch that some are of Opinion, the
very Fleavens themselves are corruptible only
for this Reason, because they are Bodies. We
all know the Power of the Sun, of Damps, of
Frosts and of Storms. Battered by these En-
gines, we see the hardest Flints shiver and fall
to Pieces, and huge Pieces of Rock broken
down from the Mountains, with Parts of the
Hill itself along with them. To these add the
Violence or Negligence of Men. I call Fleaven
to Witness, that I am often filled with the
highest Indignation when I see Buildings de-
molished and going to Ruin by the Careless-
ness, not to say abominable Avarice of the
Owners, Buildings whose Majesty has saved
them from the Fury of the most barbarous and
enraged Enemies, and which Time himself,
that perverse and obstinate Destroyer, seems to
have destined to Eternity. To these again add
the sudden Accidents of Fire, Lightening,
Earthquakes, Inundations, and those many sur-
prizing, unheard of and incredible Phasnomena
which the miraculous Power of Nature so fre-
quently produces, and which are capable of

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1

over-turning the best finished Structure of the
wisest Architect. Plato says, that the whole
Atlantick Island, which was not less than Epi-
rus, vanished away at once into Smoke. His-
tory informs us, that the Cities of Helice and
Bum were both swallowed up, one by the Sea
and the other by an Earthquake: That the
Lake Tritonis disappeared in an Instant, and
on the contrary, that of Stymphalis in Argos,
appeared as suddenly: That at Teramene an
Island stalled up at once, with hot Springs in
it; and that between the two Islands of The-
rasia and Thera a Flame burst out of the Sea,
which made it foam and boil four whole Days
successively, and at last appeared an Island
twelve Furlongs in Length, wherein the Rho-
dians built a Temple to Neptune their Protec-
tor. In other Places we are told of such nu-
merous Swarms of Mice, that they bred an
Infection, and that the Spaniards sent Ambas-
sadors to the Roman Senate to implore their
Assistance against infinite Numbers of Hares
which eat up their Country; and many other
wonderful Accidents of the same Nature,
whereof we have made a Collection in our lit-
tle Treatise, entitled Theogenius. But all the
Defects which proceed from foreign Causes are
not uncapable of being corrected: Neither
will those which are owing to the Architect,
always admit of Amendment; for where every
thing is wrong and out of Order, no Improve-
ment is practicable. Where the Building can-
not be any ways altered for the better, but by
changing almost every Line and Angle, it is
much better to pull the Whole quite down, and
begin upon a new Foundation. But that is not
our Business now: We are here to shew what
may be amended or improved by Art. And
first we shall speak of Buildings of a publick
Nature. Of these the greatest and most irn-

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1

portant is the City, or rather, if we may so
call it, the Region of the City. The Region
wherein an inconsiderable Architect has placed
his City, may perhaps have those Defects
which will admit of Amendment. Either it
may be unsecure against sudden Incursions of
Enemies, or it may stand in a bad unhealthy
Air, or it may not be well supplied with all
Necessaries. Of these therefore we shall now
treat. The Way from Lydia into Cilicia lies
through a narrow Pass cut by Nature among
the Hills, in such a Manner that you would
think she designed it as a Gate to that Pro-
vince. At Thermopylae, now called the Bocca
de Lupo, is a Pass which three armed Men may
defend, being a broken Way interrupted by
numberless Rills of Water on every Side, which
rise from the very Root of the Mountain.

Much like this are the broken Rocks in the
Mark of Ancona, called by the Vulgar Fosso
ombrone, and many others in other Places. But
such Passes, so fortified by Nature, are not to
be found every where: However, they seem in
a great Measure, to be capable of being imitat-
ed by Art; and accordingly we find it to have
been very often prudently done by the Anci-
ents, who in order to secure their Country from
the Inroads of their Enemies, used the follow-
ing Methods, which we shall briefly gather
from as many of the great Works of the old
Heroes, as may serve to illustrate our present
Subject. Artaxerxes near the River Euphrates,
cut a Trench between himself and the Enemy,
threescore Foot broad, and ten Miles long. The
Ccesars (and particularly Adrian ) built a Wall
across Britain forescore Miles in Length, by
which they divided the Lands of the Barbari-
ans from those of the Romans. Antoninus Pius
made another of Turf across the same Island.
After him Severus threw up a Trench an

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1

hundred and twenty-two Miles long, which
divided the Island clear from Sea to Sea. An-
tiochus Soter encompassed Margiana a Province
of India, where he built Antiochia, with a
Wall fifteen hundred Furlongs in Length; and
Seososis carried a Wall of the same Length from
the Borders of A Egypt towards Arabia, thro’
a Desart quite from the City of the Sun, which
was called Thebes. The Neritones, whose Coun-
try formerly joined to Leucadia, cutting away
the Neck of Land, and letting in the Sea,
made it an Island: On the contrary, the Chal-
cidians and the Boeotians raised a Dike over the
Straits, called the Euripus, to join Euboia to
Boeotia, that they might be able to succour each
other. Alexander the Great built six Towns
near the River Oxus, not sar distant from each
other, that upon any sudden Attack from the
Enemy, they might have Assistance at Hand.

The Ancients frequently made use of little Re-
doubts, which they called Tyrses, fortified with
very high Ramparts, like Castles, to put a Stop
to Incursions from their Enemies. The Per-
sians stopt up the Tygris with Sluices, that none
of the Enemy’ s Vessels might get up the River:
But Alexander took them away and opened
the Stream, alledging that it was a mean and
cowardly Defence, and exhorting them rather
to trust to their own Valour for their Securi-
ty. Some have overflowed their Country and

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made it a perfect Marsh, like Arabia, which
by means of a Number of Lakes and Bogs oc-
casioned by the River Euphrates, was not to
be approached by an Enemy. Thus by such
Fortifications they both secured their – own
Country against the Attacks of an Enemy, and
at the same Time made their Enemy’ s Coun-
try weaker and more defenceless. What are
the Causes which make the Air unhealthy, we
have already shewn sufficiently at Length in
the proper Place. We may only observe here
in general, that for the most Part those Causes
are either the too great Power of the Sun, or
too much Shade; some infectious Winds from
neighbouring Parts, or pestilent Vapours from
the Soil itself, or else something in the very
Climate itself that is noxious. To mend the
Air when it is unhealthy or corrupted, is a
Work scarce thought possible to be done by any
human Contrivance; unless by appeasing the
Wrath of Heaven by Prayers and Supplications,
which, like the Nail driven by the Consul, have
sometimes, as we read, put a Stop to the most
destructive Contagions. Against the Inconve-
niences of the Sun or Wind to the Inhabitants
of some little Town or Villa, perhaps some
Remedy may be found: But to alter the Cli-
mate of a whole Region or Province, is a Task
too great; not that I deny the Possibility of
amending a great many of those Defects which
proceed from the Air, by curing the Earth of
exhaling noxious Vapours. In order to shew
how this may be done, it is not necessary that
I should here spend Time in debating whether
it is by means of the Power of the Sun, or by
some natural inward Heat, that the Earth emits
those two Vapours, of which one mounting up
into the Air is condensed by the Cold, into
Rain and Snow; and the other, which is a dry
Vapour, is supposed to be the Cause of Winds:

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It is enough that we are assured, that both these
arise out of the Earth; and as we find that
those Steams which proceed from the Bodies
of Animals, partake of the Nature of the Bodies
from which they arise, pestiferous from pesti-
lentious Bodies, and sweet from wholesome and
cleanly ones, and that sometimes where the
Sweat or Vapour is not bad in itself, it is ren-
dered offensive by the Nastiness of the Gar-
ment through which it passes; so it is with the
Earth: For when the Ground is neither well
covered with Water, nor perfectly dry, but lies
like a Marsh or Bog, it must for several Rea-
sons emit noxious and unwholesome Vapours.
Thus we find, that where the Sea is deep, the
Water is cold, and warm where it is shallow;
the Reason of which, we are told, is because
the Rays of the Sun cannot strike to the Bot-
tom of a deep Water: As if you plunge a red-
hot Iron into Oil, if the Oil be but a small
Quantity, it will raise a strong thick Smoke,
but if there is Oil enough to cover it quite over,
it will presently quench the Iron, and make
no Smoke at all. But to proceed briefly with
the Subject which we have begun to take
in Hand. Sen’ius tells us, that a Marsh near
a certain Town being almost dried up, and a
Plague succeeding, the Inhabitants went for
Counsel to Apollo, who commanded them to
dry it up entirely. Near Tempe, there was a
large standing Lake, which Hercules made dry
Ground, by cutting a Trench to let out the
Water, and he is said to have burnt the Ser-
pent Hydra in a Place from whence frequent
Eruptions of Water used to ravage the neigh-
bouring City; by which means the superfluous
Moisture being consumed, and the Soil render-
ed firm and dry, those over-abounding Chan-
nels of Water were entirely stopt. In ancient
Times the Nile having once swelled higher

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1

than usual, when the Waters went off, besides
the Mud, they left a great Number of different
Animals, which as the Ground became dry,
rotted and infected the Air with a dreadful
Plague. Strabo says, that the City Mazaca,
near the Hill Argceus, abounds in good Wa-
ter; but if in Summer it has not a Way made
for it to run off, it renders the Air unwhole-
some and infectious. Moreover, towards the
northern Parts of Africa, and also in A Ethiopia ,
it never Rains; so that the Lakes are often
dried up, and left like Bogs of Mud, abounding
with infinite Numbers of Animals that breed
by Corruption, and particularly with great
Swanns of Locusts. Against these Inconveni-
encies, both the Remedies used by Hercules are
very proper, namely, cutting a Trench that the
Water may not stagnate and make a Bog, and
then laying the Ground open to the Sun,
which I take to be the Fire used by Hercules
for burning the Hydra. It may also be of Ser-
vice to fill up the Place with Stones, Earth or
Sand: And in what Manner you may fill up a
standing Water with River-sand, we shall shew
in the proper Place. Strabo says, that in his
Time the Country about the City of Ravenna,
being continually overflowed by the Sea, used
to be incommoded with noisome Vapours,
which yet did not make the Air unwholesome,
and it seems strange how this should happen,

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unless it be as it is at Venice, that the Lakes
being kept in constant Agitation by the Winds
and Tides, never subside, and so cannot cor-
rupt. The Country of Alexandria is said to
have been much of the same Nature; but the
constant overflowing of the Nile in Summer,
cured it of that Defect. Thus we are in-
structed by Nature what is proper to be done,
and that where the Ground is marshy, we
ought either to dry it up entirely, or else to
bring a constant Supply of running Water into
it, either from some Stream or River, or from
the Sea; or lastly, to dig it so deep as to come
to some living Spring. Of which we shall say
no more in this Place.

CHAP. II.

That Water is the most necessary Thing of all, and of its various Sorts.

We are now to take care that nothing
be wanting, which may be necessary
for our Use. What Things are necessary I
shall not waste much Time in recounting, be-
cause they are manifest, as Food, Raiment,

Shelter, and, above all Things, Water. Thales
the Milesian affirmed, that Water was the first
Principle of all Things, and even of Commu-
nities among Men. Aristobulus says, that he
saw above a thousand Towns left quite desart,
because the River Indus had turned his Course
another Way. I own it to be my Opinion,
that Water is to Animals the Source of natural
Heat and the Nourisher of Life; not to men-
tion its Consequence to Plants, and to every
Thing else which is intended for the Use of
Mankind; to all which I imagine it to be so
absolutely necessary, that, without Water, no-
thing which grows or is nourished in the Earth
would be capable even of existing. In the

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Country, along the River Euphrates, the People
do not suffer their Cattle to feed as long as
they would, for fear of their growing too fat
in Pastures too luxurious, occasioned, as is sup-
posed, by the Exuberance of Moisture: And
some believe, that such huge Bodies as Whales
are produced in the Sea, because of the great
Abundance of Nourishment which is afforded
by Water. Xenophon tells us, that the Kings
of Sparta were allowed, by way of Dignity,
to have a Lake of Water before the Doors of
their Houses. Water is used by us in the Ce-
remonies of our Nuptials, Sacrifices, and almost
all other sacred Rites, according to the Prac-
tice of our Fore-fathers; all which shews what
a high Esteem ancient Times had of Water.

But indeed who can deny the great Use and
Service which it is of to Mankind, insomuch
that it is always thought to be deficient, where
there is not a very large Abundance of it for all
Manner of Occasions. With this great Ne-
cessary therefore, we shall here begin, since,
according to the old Saying, we want it whe-
ther sick or well. The MessagetS, a Nation
of Scythia, made their Country abound in Wa-
ter by opening the River Aragus in several
Places. The Tygris and Euphrates were brought
by Labour to Babylon, which was built origi-
nally in a dry Place. Queen Semiramis cut a
Passage through a high Hill for the Space of
five-and-twenty Furlongs to make Way for a
Canal, fifteen Foot broad, by which she brought
Water to the City of Ecbatana. An Arabian
King brought Water from the Chorus, a River
of Arabia, into that droughty Desart where he
waited for Cambyses, in an Aqueduct made of
the Hides of Bulls, if we may believe every
thing that we read in Herodotus. In the Coun-
try of the Samians, among other surprizing
Works, the most extraordinary of all was a

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Trench seventy Furlongs in Length, made
through a Mountain which was an hundred
and fifty Paces high. Megareus ’ s Conduct was
also mightily admired, which brought the
Water of a Spring to the City in a Frame
twenty Foot high. But in my Judgment the
ancient City of Rome far excelled all the Cities
in the World in the Grandeur and Contrivance
of her Aqueducts, and the great Plenty of
Water conveyed in them. But you are not
every where sure to find Springs or Rivers from
whence Water can be brought. Alexander ,
to supply his Fleet with Water, dug a Number
of Wells along the Sea Shore of Persia. Ap-
pian tells us, that Hannibal, when he was close
pressed by Scipio, near the Town of Cilia, not
being able to find Water in the Field where he
was encamped, provided for the Necessities of
his Troops by digging Wells. Besides, it is
not all Waters which you find, that are good
and proper for the Use of Men; for besides
that, some are hot, some cold, some sweet.

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some shaip, some bitter, some perfectly clear,
others muddy, viscous, oily, tinctured with
Pitch, or of a petrisying Quality; some run-
ning partly clear, and partly foul, and some-
times in the same Place part sweet, and part
salt or bitter: There are also several other Par-
ticulars, well worth Note, which make Wa-
ters very different from one another, as well in
Nature as in Effect, and of no small Conse-
quence to the Preservation or Prejudice of the
Health. And here let us be allowed just to
mention some miraculous Properties of Water,
by Way of Amusement. The River Arsione
in Armenia, rots the Cloaths which are wash-
ed in it. The Water of Diana ‘ s Fountain,
near Camerinum, will mix with nothing Male.
At Debri, a Town of the Garamanthes, is a
Spring which is cold in the Day, and warm in
the Night. The Helbesus, a River in the Coun-
try of the Segestani in Sicily, in the Middle of
its Course grows of a sudden hot. There is a
sacred Well in Epirus, which extinguishes any
Thing which is put into it burning, and lights
that which is extinguished. In Eleusina near
Athens, is a Spring which leaps and rejoices at
the Sound of a Flute. Foreign Animals that
drink at the River Indus, change their Colour:
And upon the Shore of the Red Sea there is a
Spring, at which if Sheep drink, their Wool
presently turns Black. At Laodicea in Asia,
there are Springs, near which ah the fourfoot-
ed Animals that are conceived are of a yellow
Hue. In the Country of Gadara, is a Water,
of which if the Cattle drink, they lose their
Hair and Nails. Near the Hyrcanian Sea, is a
Fake, wherein ah that bathe grow scabby, and
can be cured with nothing but Oil. At Susa,
is a Water which makes the Teeth fall out of
the Head. Near the Fake Zelonium, is a Spring
which makes Women barren, and another

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1

which makes them fruitful. In the Island of
Chies, there is one which makes those that
drink of it foolish: And in some other Place,
which I do not now recollect, is one which
not only upon drinking, but upon the bare
Tasting makes the Person die laughing, and
there is another wherein only Batheing is im-
mediate Death. And near Nonacris in Arca-
dia, is a Water perfectly clear to the View, but
of so poisonous a Quality, that it cannot be
contained in any Metal whatsoever. On the
contrary, there are others which are admirable
for restoring the Health, such as the Waters of
Pozzuolo, Siena, Volterra, Bologna, and many
others of great Fame all over Italy. But it is
yet more extraordinary which we are told of
a Water in Corsica, namely, that it will recon-
solidate broken Bones, and prevent the Effect
of the most dangerous Poisons. In other Places
there are Waters which mend the Wit and even
inspire Divination. In Corsica, also there is
another Spring very good for the Eyes, which
if a Thief dares to deny a Theft with an Oath,
and to wash his Eyes with its Water, imme-
diately makes him blind. Of these we have
said enough. Lastly, in some Places no Wa-
ter at all is to be found, neither good nor bad.

To remedy this, it was the Custom all over the
Country of Apulia to receive and preserve the
Rain-water in Cisterns.

CHAP. III.

Four Things to be considered with Relation to Water; also whence it is engender-
ed or arises, and its Course.

There are four Things therefore which
are to our Puipose with Relation to
Water; namely, the finding, the conveying,
the chusing, and the preserving. Of these we

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1

are to treat: But we may first premise some
few Things concerning the Nature of Water in
general. I am of Opinion that Water cannot
be contained in any Thing but a Vessel, and
therefore I agree with those, who upon that
Account, affirm the Sea itself to be nothing
but a Vessel of vast Capacity, and Rivers to be
great oblong Vessels too. But there is this
Difference between the Waters of the Sea and
those of Rivers, that these latter have a Cur-
rent and Motion by their own Nature, whereas
the former would easily subside and be at Rest,
if they were not put in Agitation by the Force of
the Winds. I shall not here discuss those philo-
sophical Questions, whether all Waters make
their Way to the Sea, as to a Place of Rest, and
whether the regular Flux and Reflux of the
Ocean be owing to the Impulse of the Moon:
Those Points not being to our Purpose: but
we must not omit to take Notice of what we

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see with our Eyes, that Water naturally tends
downwards; that it cannot suffer the Air to
be any where beneath it; that it hates all Mix-
ture with any Body that is either lighter or
heavier than itself; that it loves to fill up every
Concavity into which it runs; that the more
you endeavour to force it, the more obstinate-
ly it strives against you, nor is ever satisfied till
it obtains the Rest which it desires, and that
when it is got to its Place of Repose, it is con-
tented only with itself, and despises all other
Mixtures; lastly, that its Surface is always an
exact Level. There is another Enquiry relat-
ing to Water, which I remember to have read
in Plutarch; namely, whether upon digging a
Hole in the Earth, the Water springs up like
Blood out of a Wound; or whether it distills
out like Milk engendering by Degrees in the
Breast of a Nurse. Some are of Opinion, that
perpetual Springs do not run from any full
Vessel from whence they have their supply,
but that in the Places from whence they flow,
the Water is continually engendering of Air,
and not of all Sorts of Air, but only of such as
is most apt to be formed into Vapour, and that
the Earth, and especially the Hills, are like
Spunges, full of Pores, through which the Air
is sucked in and condensed and so turned into
Water by the Cold: For Proof of which they
alledge, that the greatest Rivers spring from
the greatest Hills. Others do not agree with
this Opinion, observing that several Rivers, and
particularly the Pyramus, one of no small Note,
being navigable, does not take its Rise from
any Hill, but from the Middle of a Plain. For
this Reason, he who supposes that the Ground
imbibes the Moisture of the Rain, which by
its Weight and Subtilty penetrates through the
Veins and so distills into the Cavities of the
Earth, may perhaps be not much mistaken in

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his Conjecture: For we may observe, that those
Countries which have least Rain, have the
greatest Scarcity of Springs. Libya is said to
have been so called quasi Lipygia, as wanting
Rain, by which means it is scantily supplied
with Water. And, indeed, who can deny,
that where it Rains much, there is the greatest
Plenty of it? It is also to our present Purpose
to observe, that a Man who digs a Well never
meets with Water, till he has sunk it to the
Level of the next River. At Volsconio, a Town
standing upon a Hill in Tuscany, they dug a
Well no less then two hundred and twenty
Foot deep before they came to any Vein of
Water, not meeting with any till they came
to the Level of the Springs which rise from the
Side of the Hill; and you will generally find
the same Observation hold good of all Wells
dug upon Hills. We find by Experiment that
a Spunge will grow wet by the Humidity of
the Air, upon which I have made a Pair of
Scales to determine the Heaviness or Dryness
of the Air and Winds. I cannot indeed deny
that the Moisture of the nocturnal Air is at-
tracted from the Superficies of the Earth, and
so consequently may return again into its Pores,
and be easily converted once more into Hu-
mour; but I cannot pretend to determine any
thing certain with Relation to this Question,
finding so much Variety among Authors upon
the Subject, and so many different Considerati-
ons offering themselves to the Mind when we
think upon it. Thus it is certain that in many
Places, either by some Earthquake, or even
from no apparent Cause, Springs have burst out
of a sudden, and continued a great While, and
again, that others have failed in different Sea-
sons, some growing dry in Summer, others in
Winter, and that those which have dried up
have afterwards again afforded great Plenty of

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1

Water: Nay, and that Springs of fresh Wa-
ter not only arise from the Earth, but have
been found even in the Middle of the Sea; and
it has been affirmed, that Water also issues from
the Plants themselves. In one of those Islands
which are called Fortunate, we are told there
grows a Sort of Cane as high as a Tree, some
black, some white; from the black comes a
bitter Juice, and from the white distills a fine
clear Water, very beautiful to the Eye and good
to drink. Strabo, a very grave Author, says
that in the Mountains of Armenia, they find a
Sort of Worms bred in the Snow, which are
full of a Water excellent to drink. At Fiezole
and Urbino, though both Towns standing up-
on Hills, there is Plenty of Water to be had
for the least digging, which is because those
Hills are formed of a stony Soil mixed with a
Chalk. We are told further, that there are
certain Clods of Earth which within their
Coats contain a Quantity of the finest Water.
Amidst all this wonderful Variety, the Know-
ledge of the Nature of Springs cannot be other-
wise than extremely difficult and obscure.

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1

CHAP. IV.

By what Marks to find any hidden Water.

Let us now return to our Subject. Hid-
den Waters are to be found out by cer-
tain Marks. These Marks are the Form and
Face of the Spot of Ground, and the Nature
of the Soil where you are to search for the
Water, and some other Methods discovered by
the Industry and Diligence of Men. Accord-
ing to the ordinary Course of Nature, a Place
which is sunk down into a Hollow, or into a
Sort of concave Pit, seems to be a Kind of Ves-
sel ready prepared for the retaining of Water.

In those Places where the Sun has much Pow-
er, all Humidity is so much dried up by the
Force of his Rays, that few or no Veins of
Water are to be found; or if any are disco-
vered in a very open Place, they are heavy,
thick and brackish. On the north Side of
Hills, and where-ever there is a very thick
Shade, you may very soon meet with Water.
Hills whose Tops are used to be long covered
with Snow, afford great Plenty of Springs. I
have observed, that Hills which have a flat
Meadow at the Top, never want Water; and
you will find almost all Rivers have their Rise
from some such Place. I have also observed,
that their Springs seldom flow from any other
Spot of Ground, but where the Soil beneath or
about them is sound and firm, with either an
even Slope over them, or soft loose Earth: So
that if you consider the Matter, you will be of
Opinion with me, that the Water which has
been gathered there, runs out as from the Side
of a broken Bason. Hence it happens that the
closest Soil has the least Water, and what there
is, lies very near the Surface: But the loosest
Earth has the most Humidity; but then the

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1

Water generally lies pretty deep. Pliny writes,
that in some Places, upon cutting down the
Woods, Springs burst out: And Tacitus says,
that when Moses journeyed through the De-
sart, and his Followers were fainting with
Thirst, he discovered Springs of Water, only
by taking Notice where there were fresh Spots
of Grass. /Emilias, when his Army suffered a
Dearth of Water near Mount Olympus, found
out a Supply by the fresh Verdure of the
Woods. Some Soldiers who were in quest of
Water were directed to some little Veins by a
young Girl in the Via Collatina, where, upon
digging they found a very plentiful Spring, over
which they built a little Chapel, and in it left
the Memory of the Accident described in Paint-
ing. If the Earth easily gives Way to the
Tread, or cleaves to the Foot, it shews that
there is Water under it. One of the most cer-
tain Marks of concealed Water, is the Growth
and Flourishing of those Plants which love
Water, or are used to be produced by it, such
as Willows, Rushes, Withes, Ivy, or any others
which without Plenty of Moisture could never
have attained the Perfection in which we find
them. Columella tells us, that the Ground
which produces Vines very thick of Leaves,
and especially that which bears Dwars-elder,
Trefoil and wild Plumbs is a good Soil, and
does not want Veins of sweet Water. More-
over great Quantities of Frogs, Earth-worms,
with Gnats and other small Flies swarming
together in the Air, are Tokens of Water con-
cealed beneath. The Methods for finding
Water invented by the Diligence of Men are
as follows: The curious Searchers into Nature
have observed, that the Earth, and especially
the Flills, consist of different Coats or Layers,
some closer, some looser, and others thinner;
and they have found, that the Flills were com-

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1

posed of these Coates placed one above the
other, in such a Manner that towards the Sur-
face or outside these Layers or Coats, and their
several Junctures lie level from the Right to
Left: But on the Inside, towards the Center
of the Hill the Layers incline downwards in an
oblique Line, with all their upper Superficies
inclining equally, but then the same Line does
not continue on, quite to the Center of the
Hill, for, suppose at the Distance of every
hundred Foot the Line is broken off by a Kind
of transverse Step, which makes a Discontinu-
ance in the Layer; and so with these Breaks
and Slopes the Coats run from each Side to the
Center of the Hill. From an Observation of
these Particulars, Men of acute Understanding
soon perceived that the Waters were either en-
gendered, or rather that the Rains gathered
between these Strata, and in the Junctures of
the several Coats, by which means the Middle
of the Hill must needs have Water in it.

Hence they concluded that in order to come at

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1

that concealed Water, they must pierce into
the Body of the Hill, and especially in one of
those Parts where the Lines or Junctures of the
several Strata met together, which was likely
to be the most proper Place for what they
wanted, because the Museles of the Hill meet-
ing together must in all Probability form a na-
tural Reservoir. Besides the several Coats
themselves seemed to be of different Natures,
some likely to imbibe, others to retain the Wa-
ter. Thus the reddish Stone is hardly ever
without Water; but then it is apt to deceive
you, for it often runs out through the Veins
with which that Stone abounds. The moist and
living Flint which lies about the Roots of the
Hill, broken and very sharp, soon affords Wa-
ter. The light Soil too gives you an easy Op-
portunity of finding Plenty of Water; but then
it is of a bad Savour. But the Male-sand and
the hard Grit are sure to afford the best of
Water, and with the least Danger of being ex-
hausted. It is quite the contrary with Chalk,
which being too close, yields no Water; but
it is very good for retaining that which distills
into it. In common Sand we find but very
small Veins, and those foul, and apt to have a
Sediment. From white Clay we have but
small Veins, but those sweeter than any other.
The soft Stone yields a very cold Water; the
black Earth a very clear one. In Gravel, if it
is loose, we cannot dig with any very great
Hope; but if it grows closer as we come deeper,
there is no Danger of finding Water, and when
found, in either of them, there is no doubt of
its being well tasted. It is also certain, that by
the Help of Art there is no great Difficulty in
finding out the Spot under which the Vein lies:

And the Method by which we are taught to
do it, is as follows. In the Morning extremely

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1

early, when the Air is perfectly clear and serene,
lay yourself flat with your Chin resting upon
the Ground: Then take a careful Survey of
the Country all round you, and where-ever
you see a Vapour rising out of the Earth, and
curling up into the Air like a Man’ s Breath in
a clear Frost, there you may be pretty certain
of finding Water. But in order to be still
more sure of it, dig a Pit four Cubits deep and
as many broad, and in this Pit, about the Time
of Sun-set, put either an earthen Pot just fresh
taken out of the Furnace, or a small Quantity
of unwashed Wool, or an earthen Pot unbak-
ed, or a brass Pot with the Mouth downwards
and rubbed over with Oil; then make up the
Mouth of the Pit with Boards and cover it
with Earth: If next Morning the baked Pot
be much heavier than it was over Night; if
the Wool be moistened; if the unbaked Pot be
wet; if the brass Pot have Drops hanging up-
on it, and if a Eamp left in the same Pit have
not consumed much Oil, or if upon making a
Fire in it, the Earth emits a good deal of
Smoke, you may be very sure that there are
Veins of Water concealed. In what Season it
is best to make these Trials has not been so
clearly declared; but in some Writers I find
the following Observations. In the Dog-days,
not only the Earth, but also the Bodies of Ani-
mals are very full of Humidity: Whence it
happens, that in this Season the Trees grow
very moist under the Bark with Excess of Hu-
mour; about this Time also Men are very sub-
ject to Fluxes of the Belly, and through exces-
sive Humectation, fall into frequent Fevers;
and the Waters spring out more abundantly at
this Time of the Year, than any other. Theo-
phrastus thinks the Reason of this to be, that
about this Time we have generally southerly
Winds, which in their Nature are moist and

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1

cloudy. Aristotle affirms, that in this Season
the Ground is forced to emit Vapours by means
of the natural Fire which lies mixed in the
Bowels of the Earth. If this be true, those
Times must be best for the above-mentioned
Trials, when those Fires are most potent, or
least oppressed with Exuberance of Humour,
as also when the Earth is not too much burnt
up and too dry. The Season therefore which
I would recommend for this Puipose, should
be the Spring in dry Places, and Autumn in
Places of more Shade. When your Hopes of
not being disappointed are confirmed in the
Manner before shewn, you may begin to dig.

  • CHAP. V.

Of the digging and walling of Walls and Conduits.

The Work of Digging is performed in
two Manners; for either we dig a Well
perpendicularly down, or we dig a Conduit
horizontally. The Workmen in digging are
sometimes exposed to Danger, either from un-
wholesome Vapours, or from the falling in of

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PLATE 65. ( Page 216)

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1

the Sides of the Pit. The Ancients used to send
their Slaves, upon their being convicted of some
Crime, to dig in their Mines, where the noi-
some Air soon dispatched them. Against such
Vapours we are taught to secure ourselves, by
keeping the Air in continual Motion, and by
the Burning of Lamps, to the Intent, that if
the Vapour be very subtile, it may be consu-
med by the Flame, or if it be more gross, the
Workmen may know when to get out of Harm’ s
Way, because such a heavy Vapour will give
them Notice by extinguishing the Light. But
if these Damps multiply upon you, and con-
tinue for any Time, we are advised to dig Vents
on each Side, to give the Vapour a free Passage
to exhaust itself. To prevent the falling in
of the Sides, work your Well in the following
Manner. Upon the Level of the Ground where
you resolve to make your Well, lay a circular
Course of Work, either of Marble, or some
other stout Material, of the Diameter which
you intend for the Breadth of your Well. This
will be the Basis or Foundation of your whole
Work. Upon this build the Sides of your Well
to the Fleight of three Cubits, and let it stand
till it is thoroughly dry. When this is dry, go
to digging your Well, and remove the Fai th
from the Inside of it; by which means, as you
dig away the Earth, the Sides already raised
will sink by Degrees, and make their own Way
downwards; and thus adding to the Sides as
you go deeper, you may sink your Work to
what Depth you please. Some are for Build-
ing the Sides of the Well without Mortar, that
the Veins of Water may not be stopt from
getting through them. Others are for inclo-
sing it with no less than three different Walls,
that the Water rising all up from the Bottom,
may be the clearer. But the main Point is
the Nature of the Place where you dig;

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1

for as the Earth consists of different Strata
placed one above the other, it sometimes hap-
pens, that the Rain-water, soaking thro’ the up-
per soft Coat, lodges in the first hard Bed;
and this never being pure, is unsit for Use:

At other Times, on the contrary, it happens,
that after you have actually found Water, up-
on digging deeper, it slips away and is lost.

The Reason of this is, that you have dug thro’
the Bottom of the Vessel which contained it.
Upon this Account I very much approve of
those who make their Well in the following
Manner. They encompass the Sides of the
Well, which is ready dug, with two Circles of
Wood or Plank, as if they were making a great
Tub, leaving the Space of about a Cubit be-
tween the two Circles. This Interspace be-
tween the Planks, they sill up with coarse
Gravel, or rather with broken Fragments of
Flint or Marble, swimming in Mortar, and
then leave this Work to dry and harden for
six Months. This forms so entire a Vessel,
that the Water can get in no other Way but
by bubbling up from the Bottom, by which
Means it must be thoroughly purged and be
perfectly clear and light. If you are to make
an horizontal Conduit under Ground, let the
Diggers observe the before-mentioned Precau-
tions against noxious Vapours; and in order
to keep the Ground from falling down upon
them, let them make use of Props, and after-
wards support it with a regular Arch. The Con-
duit should have frequent Vents, some perpendi-
cular, others oblique, not only for the exhaling
of unwholesome Vapours, but chiefly for the
more convenient bringing out the Earth as it
is dug, and any Obstruction which may get in.
When we are digging for Water, if we do
not, the lower we go, meet with moister
Clods of Earth, and if our Tools do not find

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1

more and more easy Entrance, we shall cer-
tainly be disappointed of our Hopes of sinding
what we dig for.

CHAP. VI.

Of the Uses of Water; which is best and most wholesome; and the contrary.

When Water is found, it ought not
to be rashly applied to the Uses of
Men. But as the City requires a very great
Plenty of Water, not only for drinking, but
also for washing, for supplying the Gardens,
for Tanners, and Fullers; for the Drains, and
for extinguishing sudden Fires: The best is to
be chosen for drinking, and the others are to
be allotted to the other Uses, according as
they are found to be respectively proper for
them. Theophrastus was of Opinion, that the
colder the Water, the more serviceable to
Plants; and it is certain, that the foul and
muddy, especially if it takes its Thickness

723

1

from a fruitful Soil, enriches the Ground.
Horses do not love a very clear Water, but
grow fat with any that is mossy and warm.

The hardest is best for Fullers. The Physicians
say, that the Necessity of Water to the Health
and Life of Man is of two Sorts; one for
quenching the Thirst, and the other, to serve
as a Vehicle to carry the Nutriment extracted
from the Food into the Veins, that being there
purified and digested it may supply the Mem-
bers with their proper Juices. Thirst they tell
us is an Appetite of Moisture, and chiefly of a
cold one; and therefore they think that cold
Water, especially after Meals, fortifies the Sto-
mach of those that are in good Health; but if
it be excessively cold it will throw the most ro-
bust into a Numbness, occasion Gripes in the
Bowels, shake the Nerves, and by its Rawness
extinguish the digestive Faculty of the Sto-
mach. The Water of the River O.xus being
always turbid, is very unwholesome to drink.
The Inhabitants of Rome , from the frequent
Changes of the Air, and the nocturnal Vapours
which arise from the River, as also from the
Winds which commonly blow in the After-
noon, are very subject to dangerous Fevers;
for these Winds generally blow very cold about
three o’ Clock in Summer, at which Time
Mens Bodies are extreamly heated, and even
contract the very Veins. But in my Opinion
these Fevers, and indeed most of the worst
Distempers there proceed, in a great Measure,
from the Water of the Tyber, which is com-
monly drank when it is foul; to which Pur-
pose it may not be amiss to observe, that the
ancient Physicians, for the Cure of these Ro-
man Fevers, order the Use of the Juice of
Squills and of Incisives. But to return. We
are upon the Search of the best Water. Cel sus
the Physician, says of Waters, that of all the

724

1

different Sorts the Rain-water is the lightest;
the second is that of the Spring; in the third
Place is the River-water; in the fourth, that
of a Well; in the fifth and last, that which
dissolves from Snow or Ice. The Lake-water
is heavier than any of these, and that of a Marsh
is the worst of all. The Mazaca, which stands
under the Hill Argceus , abounds with good
Water; but having no Way to run off in
Summer, it grows unwholesome and pestifer-
ous. The Definition which the best Philoso-
phers give us of Water, is, that it is naturally
a Body simple and unmixed, whereof Coldness
and Humidity are two Properties. We may
therefore conclude that to be the best, which
deviates the least from its own Nature; be-
cause, if it be not perfectly pure, and entirely
free from Mixture, Taste, or Smell, it will cer-
tainly very much endanger the Health, by
loading the inward Passages of the Lungs,
choaking up the Veins, and clogging the Spirits,
the Ministers of Life, For this Reason we
are told that the Rain-water, as it consists of the
lightest Vapours, is the best of all, provided it
be not of such a Sort as easily corrupts and stinks,
which when it grows foul is very apt to harden
the Belly. Some believe that the Occasion of
this is, that it falls from Clouds formed of a
Mixture of too many different Vapours com-
pounded together, drawn, for Instance, from
the Sea, which is the great Receptacle of all
the different Sorts of Springs; because indeed
nothing can be more liable to Corruption, than
a confused Medley of Things in their Nature
dissimilar. Thus the Juice of different Sorts of
Grapes mixed together, will never keep.

IT was an ancient Law among the Hebrew’s,
that no Man should sow any Seed but what was
pick’ d and unmixed; it being their Notion,

725

1

that Nature totally abhorred a Medley of differ-
ent Particles. Those who follow Aristotle,
thinking that the Vapours which are extracted
from the Earth, when they are raised up to the
cold Region of the Air, are by the Cold com-
pressed into Clouds, and afterwards dissolve in
Rain, are of quite a different Opinion. Thus
Theophrastus says, that cultivated and Garden
Fruits fall more easily into Distempers than
wild ones, which being of a tough Contexture
never tamed, more vigorously resist any Injury
from without; whereas the other being made
tender by Culture, have not the same hardy
Constitution. The same he tells us will hold
good as to Waters, and the more tender we
make them (to use his own Words) the more
liable they will be to suffer Alteration. For
this Reason some say, that Water which has been
boyled and soften’ d by the Fire will soonest
grow cold, and so be soonest made hot again.
Thus much of Rain-water. Next to this the
Spring-water is certainly the best. Those who
prefer the River to the Spring, say, what else is
a River, but an Abundance and Concourse of
many different Springs united together, and
maturated by the Sun, Winds and Motion? So
they tell us too, that a Well is nothing but a
Spring lying very deep: from whence they in-
fer, if we will allow the Rays of the Sun to be
of any Service to Water, that it is no hard mat-
ter to judge which of these Springs must be the

726

1

most undigested: unless we will suppose, that
there is a fiery Spirit in the Bowels of the earth,
by which subterraneous Waters are concocted.
Arislotle says that the Water in Wells grows
warm in the Summer in the Afternoon. Ac-
cordingly some will have it that Well-water
seems cold in Summer, only by comparison with
the hot Air which surrounds us. Accordingly
we find, contrary to the old received Opinion,
that Water just fresh drawn, does not bedew
the Glass into which it is put, if the Glass be
perfectly clean and not greasy. But as of the
first Principles whereof all Things consist, es-
pecially according to the Pythagorean Notion,
there are two which may be called male, which
are Heat and Cold; and it being the Property
of Heat to penetrate, dissolve, break, attract and
suck up all Moisture, as it is that of Cold to
compress, contract, harden and consolidate:
bo h these have in a great Measure the same
Effects, and particularly upon Water, provided
they are excessive and of too long Continuance;
because they both equally consume the more
subtile Parts, which occasions exactly the same
adust Dryness. Thus we say, that Plants are
burnt up, not only by extreme Heat but also by
extreme Cold; because when the more tender
Parts of the Substance of the Wood are con-
sumed and dried up either by Frost or Sun,
we see the Tree look rusty and chapt as by
Fire. From the same Causes Water grows
viscous by the Sun’ s Heat, and looks as if it
were full of Ashes in extreme Frost. But there
is another Difference even among Waters al-
lowed to be good; for particularly as to Rain-
water, it is of great Importance in what Sea-
son of the Year, at what Time of the Day,
and in what Winds you collect it, as also in
what Place you preserve it, and what Time it
has been kept. The Rain which falls after

727

1

the Middle of Winter is thought to afford the
heaviest Water; and that which is collected in
the Winter is said to be sweeter than that col-
lected in the Summer. The first Rains after
the Dog-days are bitter and unwholesome, be-
ing corrupted with a Mixture of some of the
adust Particles of the Earth, and we are told
that the Earth itself has a bitter savour at that
Time of the Year, from being burnt up by the
Heat of the Sun. Hence we are advised, that
the Rain-water gathered from the House-top,
is better than that which is collected in the
Ground; and of that which is gathered from
the House-top, the most wholesome is said to
be that which is got after the Roof has been
well washed by the first Rain. The African
Physicians tell us, that the Rain which falls in
Summer, especially when it thunders, is not
pure, and is unwholsome from its Saltness.
Theophrastus thinks, that the Night Rains are
better than those in the Day. Hence that
is accounted the most wholesome which falls
in a North Wind. Columella is of Opinion,
that Rain water would not be bad if it were
carried through earthen Pipes into covered
Cisterns, because it easily corrupts when it
stands uncovered to the Sun, and soon spoils,
if it is kept in any Vessel made of Wood.

Springs also are very different from one ano-
ther. Hippocrates judged those which rise
from the Roots of Hills to be the best. The
Opinion of the Ancients concerning Springs was
as follows. They thought the very best of all
were those which lay either to the North, or
fronting the Sun-rise about the Equinox; and
the worst they supposed to be those which lay
to the South. The next best they thought
were those which fronted the Sun-rise in Win-
ter, nor did they disapprove of those on the
West Side of the Hill, which generally is very

728

1

moist with a great Abundance of light Dew,
and consequently must afford a very sweet
Water, because the Dew does not fall but in
quiet, clear Places, and where there is a tem-
perate Air. Theophrastus thinks that Water
gets a Taste from the Earth, as in Fruits, Vines,
and other Trees, which all have a Savour of
the Earth from which they draw their Juices,
and from whatever happens to lie near their
Roots. The Ancients used to say, that there
were as many different Sorts of Wines, as there
were of different Soils wherein the Vineyards
were planted. Thus Pliny tells us, that the
Wines of Padua tasted of the Willows to which
the Inhabitants of that Country used to bind
their Vines. Cato teaches to medicate the Vines
with the Herb Hellebore , by laying Bundles of
it at the Roots, at the same Time that you
open them, in order to make them loosen the
Belly without Danger. For these Reasons the
Ancients thought, that the Water which issued
out of the living Rock, was better than that
which rose from the Ground. But the best of
all was thought to be that which distilled from
such an Fai th, which being put into a Bason
with Water, and stirr’ d together with it, would
the soonest subside and leave the Water the
least tainted either in Colour, Smell, or Taste.

For the same Reasons Columella was of Opinion,
that Water which ran down stony Precipices

729

1

must be the best, being less likely to be spoil’ d
by any foreign Mixture. But it is not every
Water which runs among Stones that is to be
approved of, because if it runs in a deep Bed
under a dark Shade, it will be too crude; and
on the contrary, if its Channel be too open, I
should be inclined to subscribe to Aristole’ s
Opinion, that the too great Heat of the Sun
consuming the more subtle Parts, would make
it viscous. Authors prefer the Nile to all other
Rivers, because it descends with a very exten-
sive Course; because it cuts through the finest
Sorts of Soil which are not either infected with
Corruption by Damps, nor tainted with Con-
tagion by being burnt up; because it flows
towards the North: And lastly, because its
Channel is always full and clear. And indeed
it cannot be denied, that Waters which have
the longest and the gentlest Current, are the
least crude, and are most refined and purged
by their easy Motion, leaving all the Weight
of their Sediment behind them in their long
Course. Moreover, all the Ancients agree in
this, that Waters not only receive a Tincture,
as we observed before, from the Ground in
which they lie as in their Mother’ s Lap, but
also borrow somewhat from the Soils thro’
which they flow, and from the Juices of the
different Plants which they wash; not merely
because they lick those Plants in their Course,
but rather because any pestiferous Plant will
taint them with the Mixture of the Steams of
the unwholsome Soil in which they grow. This
is the Reason that unwholsome Plants are said
to yield unwholesome Water. You shall some-
times observe the Rain itself to have an ill
Smell, and perhaps a bitter Taste. This we
are told proceeds from the Infection of the
Place from whence the Steam or Vapour first
arose. Thus it is affirmed, that the Juices of

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1

the Earth, when sufficiently maturated and
concocted by Nature, produce every Thing
sweet, and on the contrary, when they are
crude and undigested, they make every Thing
bitter with which they mix. Those Waters
which run towards the North may perhaps be
supposed to be the most useful, because they
are the coldest, as flying from the Rays of the
Sun, and being rather visited than scorched
by him; and those which flow towards the
South the contrary, as throwing themselves
into the very Mouth of the Flame. Aristotle
taught, that the fiery Spirit which was mixed
up by Nature in all Bodies, was repelled by
the Coldness of the North Wind, and confined
within, from evaporating, and that this gave
the Water its due Concoction: And it is cer-
tain, that this Spirit is exhausted and dissipated
by the Heat of the Sun. Sen’ius, upon the
Authority of experienced Persons, says, that
Wells and Springs which lie under a Roof, do
not emit any Vapour: That light subtle Breath
rising from the Well, not being able to penetrate
or make its Way through the dense and gross
Air which the Roof compresses together over it;
whereas, when it lies under the clear and open
Sky, it has free Play, and extends and purges
itself without Obstruction: For which Reason,
Wells under the open Air are accounted more
wholesome than those under Cover. In other
respects, all the same Properties are to be wished
for in a Well that are required in a Spring;
for both seem to have a very near Relation to
each other, and hardly differ in any Thing but
in Point of Current; though you shall very
frequently meet even with Wells which run
with a very large Vein of Water; and we are
told, that no Water can possibly be peipetual
which is absolutely without Motion; and
Water without Motion, let it lie in what Soil

731

1

it will, cannot be wholesome. If a great deal of
Water is continually and constantly drawn out
of a Well, that Well may be looked upon ra-
ther as a deep Spring; and on the other hand,
if a Spring does not run over its Sides, but
stands quiet and still, it may be accounted a
shallow Well rather than a Spring. Some are
of Opinion, that no Water can be perpetual,
or of very long Duration, which does does not
move with the rising and falling of the next
River of Torrent; and I believe the same.

The ancient Lawyers made this Distinction
between a Lake and a Marsh, that the Lake
has a perpetual Water, whereas that of the
Marsh is only temporary, and what it gathers
in the Winter. Lakes are of three Sorts. One,
if we may so call it, stationary, content with
its own Waters, always keeping within its Bed,
and never overflowing. The second, which is
as it were the Father of the River, discharges its
Waters at some Passage; and the last receives
some Stream from abroad, and sends it out
again into some River. The first partakes
somewhat of the Nature of a Marsh: the second
is a direct Spring: and the third, if I mistake
not, is only a River spreading out into Breadth
in that particular Place. We need not there-
fore upon this Occasion repeat what we have
already said of the Spring and the River. We
may only add, that all Water that is covered

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1

with a Shade, is colder and clearer, but more
undigested, than those warmed by the Sun;
and, on the contrary, Waters too much heated
by the Sun, are brackish and viscous. The
being deep is of Service to either Sort, because
it prevents the latter from being made too hot,
and the former from being too easily affected
by Frost. Lastly it is thought that even the
Marsh is not always to be despised: because
where-ever Eels are found, the Water is reckoned
to be not very bad. Of all Marsh-water that
is accounted the very worst which breeds Horse-
leeches, which is so absolutely without Moti-
on that it contracts a Scurf on the Top, which
has an offensive Smell, which is of a black or
livid Colour, which being put into a Vessel will
continue soul a great while, which is heavy and
clammy with a mossy Slime, and which being
used in washing your Flands, they are a long
Time before they dry. But as a short Summary
of what has been said of Water, it should be ex-
tremely light, clear, thin and transparent, to
which must be added those Particulars which
we have slightly touched in the first Book.

Lastly it will be a strong Confirmation to you
of the Goodness of your Water, if you find that
the Cattle which have washed and drank in it
for several Months together, are in good Con-
dition and perfectly healthy; and you have a
sure Way to judge whether they are sound or
not by inspecting their Livers; for what is
noxious injures with Time, and the Injury
which is latest felt is of the worst Consequence.

CHAP. VII.

Of the Method of conveying Water and accommodating it to the Uses of Men.

Having found Water and approved
it to be good, the next Work is to convey

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1

it artfully and accommodate it properly to the
Uses of Men. There arc two Ways of convey-
ing Water, either by a Trench or Canal, or by
Pipes or Conduits. In either of these Methods,
the Water will not move, unless the Place to
which you would convey it be lower than that
from which it is to be brought. But then there
is this Difference, that the Water which is brought
by a Canal must descend all the Way with a
continued Slope, whereas that which is conveyed
in Pipes may ascend in some Part of the Way.

Of these two Methods we are now to treat.

But first we must premise some Things for the
clearer Explication of our Subject. The
Searchers into Nature tell us, that the Earth is
Spherical, tho’ in many Places it rises into
Hills, and in many others sinks into Seas: but
in so vast a Globe this Roughness is not per-
ceptible; as in an Egg, which tho’ it is far
from being of a smooth Superficies, yet its lit-
tle Inequalities bearing but an inconsiderable
Proportion to its whole Circumference, they
are scarce observed. Eratosthenes tells us, that
the Compass of this great Globe is two hun-
dred and fifty two thousand Furlongs, or about
thirty one thousand five hundred Miles, and
that there is no Hill so high or Water so deep
as to be above fifteen thousand Cubits perpen-
dicular; not even Mount Caucasus, whose Top
enjoys the Sun three Hours in the Night.

There is a prodigious high Mountain in Ar-
cadia called Cyllene; and yet those who have
measured its perpendicular, affirm, that it does
not exceed twenty Furlongs. Even the Sea it-
self is thought to be no more upon this Globe
of Earth, than the Summer’ s Dew is upon the
Body of an Apple. Some have wittily said,
that the Creator of the World made use of the
Concavity of the Sea as of a Seal with the Im-
pression whereof he stampt the Hills. What

734

1

the Geometers teach us upon this Head is very
much to our present Puipose. They say, that
if a straight Line touching the Globe of the
Earth at one End were to be drawn on exactly
horizontal a Mile in Length, the Space be-
tween the other End and the Surface of the
Globe would not be above ten Inches. For
this Reason Water will never move on in a
Canal, but stand still like a Lake, unless every
eight Furlongs the Trench has a Slope of one
whole Foot from the Place where the Water
was first found and its Bed cut; which Place
the ancient Lawyers called Incile, from the In-
cision which is made either in the Rock or
Bank for conveying the Water: But if in this
Space of eight Furlongs it had a Slope of more
than six Foot, it is supposed that the Rapidity
of its Current would make it inconvenient for
Boats. In order to find whether the Trench
which is to convey the Water be lower than

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1

this Incite or Sluice or no, and what the Slope
is, certain Rules and Instruments have been
invented, which are of excellent Use. Ignorant
Workmen try their Slope by laying a Ball in
the Trench, and if this Ball rowls forwards
they think the Slope is right for their Water.

The Instruments of dexterous Artists are the
Square, Level, Plumb-line, and, in a Word, all
such as are terminated with a right Angle.

This Art is a little more abstruse; but how-
ever I shall open no more of it than is neces-
sary for the Puipose in Hand. The Practice
is performed by means of the Sight and of the
Object, which we shall call the Points. If the
Place through which we are to convey our
Water be an even Plain, there are two Ways of
directing our Sight: For we must set up cer-
tain Marks or Objects, which we may place
either nearer or at a greater Distance from
each other. The nearer the Points of the Sight
and the Mark or Object are to each other, the
less the straight Line of the Direction of the
Sight will depart from the Superficies of the
Globe; the further those Points are from each
other, the lower the Superficies of the Globe
will fall from the Level of the Sight. In both
these you must observe to allow ten Inches
slope for every Mile of Distance. But if you
have not a clear Plain, and some Hill interferes,
then again you have two Ways of Proceeding:
One by taking the Height from the Incile or
Sluice, on the one Side, and the Height of the
Slope from the Head on the other. The Head
I call that appointed Place to which you would
bring the Water, in order to let it run from
thence free, or to appropriate it to some particular
Uses. We find these Heights by taking different
Steps of Measurement. I call them Steps be-
cause they are like those Steps by which we

736

1

ascend to a Temple. One Line of these Steps
is the Ray of Sight which goes from the Be-
holder’ s Eye along the same Level with his Eye;
which is made by the Square, the Level and the
Plumb-line; and the other Line is that which
falls from the Beholder’ s Eye down to his Leet,
in a Perpendicular. By means of these Steps
you note how much one Line exceeds the
other, by casting up the Amount of their Per-
pendiculars, and so find which is the Highest,
that which rises from the Sluice to the Top of
the Eminence, or that which rises from the
Head. The other Method, is by drawing one
Line from the Sluice to the Top of the Hill
which interferes, and another Lime from thence
to the Head, and by computing the Proporti-
ons of their Angles, according to the Rules of
Geometry. But this Method is dissicult in
Practice, and not extremely sure, because in a
large Distance the least Error occasioned by
the Eye of the Measurer is of very great Conse-
quence. But there are some Things which
seem to bear some Relation to this Method, as
we shall shew by and by, which, if we have
occasion to cut a Passage through a Hill to
bring Water to a Town, may be of great Use
for obtaining the right Directions. The Prac-
tice is as follows: On the Summit of the Hill,
in a Place where you can have a View both of
the Sluice on one Side and of the Head on the
other, having laid the Ground exactly level, de-
scribe a Circle ten Loot in Diameter. This
Circle we shall call the Horizon. In the Cen-
ter of the Circle stick up a Pike exactly per-
pendicular. Having made this Preparation, the
Artist goes round the Outside of the Circle, in
order to find in what Part of its Circumference
his Eye being directed to one of the Points of
the Water which is to be conveyed, touches
the lower Part of the Pike which stands in the

737

1

Center. Having found out and marked this
exact Place in the Circumference of his Hori-
zon. he draws a Line for this Direction from
that Mark quite to the opposite Side of his Cir-
cle. Thus this Line will be the Diameter of
that Circle, as it will pass through the Center,
and cut through both Sides of the Circumfe-
rence. If this Line, upon taking opposite Views
leads the Eye on one Side directly to the
Sluice, and on the other directly to the Head
of our Water, it affords us a straight Direction
for our Channel. But if the two Lines of Di-
rection do not happen to meet in this Manner,
and the Diameter which leads to the Sluice,
falls on one Part of the Circumference, and
that which leads to the Head, on another;
then from the mutual Intersection of these
Lines at the Pike in the Center of the Circle,
we shall find the Difference between the two
Directions. I use the Help of such a Circle to
make Platforms and draw Maps of Towns and
Provinces, as also for the digging subterraneous
Conduits, and that with very good Effect. But
of that in another Place. Whatever Canal we
make, whether for bringing only a smaller
Quantity of Water for Drinking, or a larger
for Navigation, we may follow the Directions
which we have here taught. But the Prepa-
ration of our Canal must not be the same for
a large Quantity of Water, as for a small. We
shall first go on with the Subject which we

738

PLATE 66. (Page 222)

1

PLATE 67. ( Page 222)

740

1

have begun concerning Water only for Drink-
ing, and proceed afterwards to Canals for Na-
vigation. Canals are either worked up with
Masonry, or else are only Trenches dug. Tren-
ches are of two Sorts, cut either through an
open Country, or through the Bowels of a Hill,
which is called a Mine or subterraneous Con-
duit. In both these, when you meet with either
Stone, Chalk, or compact Earth that does not
imbibe the Water, you will have no Occasion
for Masonry; but where the Bottom or Sides of
the Canal are not sound, then you must fortify
them. If you are obliged to carry your Canal
through the Heart of a Hill, you must observe
the Rules above laid down. In subterraneous
Conduits, at the Distance of every hundred
Foot, you should open Ventiges like Wells for-
tified according as the Nature of the Earth
through which you dig requires. I have seen
such Ventiges in the Country of the Marsi near
Rome, where the Water falls into the ancient
Lake Fucinus (now called the Pie di Luco )
built very finely with burnt Brick, and of an
incredible Depth. ‘ Till the four hundred and
forty-first year after the building of the City,
there was no such thing as an Aqueduct built
at Rome; but afterwards those Works were
brought to such a Pitch, that whole Rivers
were conveyed to it through the Air, and we
are told, that there were so many of them, that
every single House was abundantly supplied
with Water. At first they began with subter-
raneous Conduits; which indeed had a great
many Conveniencies. This hidden Work was
less subject to Injuries and being exposed neither
to the Severity of Frosts, nor to the scorching
Dog-day Sun brought the Water fresher and
cooler, nor could easily be destroyed or turned
away by Enemies that might happen to make
Inroads into the Country. These Works were

741

1

afterwards brought to such a Magnificence,
that in order to have high Jets of Water in their
Gardens and in their Bathes, they built vault-
ed Aqueducts, in some Places above an hundred
and twenty Foot high, and earned on for above
threescore Miles together. From these too they
reaped Conveniencies. In several Places, and
particularly beyond the Tyber, the Water of
these Aqueducts served to grind their Corn,
and upon their being destroyed by the Enemy,
they were forced to make Mills for that Pur-
pose in Ships. To this add, that by means of
this Plenty of Water the City was kept cleaner
and the Air made fresher and more wholesome.
The Architects also added some ingenious In-
ventions to shew the Hours of the Day to the
great Recreation of the Beholders, by the Con-
trivance of some little moving Statues of Brass,
placed in the Front of the Head of the Aque-
duct, which represented the publick Games and
the Ceremony of the Triumph. At the same
Time, the Sound of musical Instruments and
sweet Voices was heard, which were caused by
the Motion of the Water. These Aqueducts
were covered in with an Arch of a good Thick-
ness, to prevent the Water from being heated
by the Sun; and this Vault was plaistered on
the Inside with such a Composition as we have
formerly in this Book recommended for Floors,
to the Thickness of at least six Inches. The
Parts of the ancient Aqueduct were these.
Joining to the Incile was the Septum; along
the Course of the Conduit were the Castella;
where any higher Ground interfered the Specus
was dug; lastly, to the Head was annexed the
Calix. An ancient Lawyer gives us the fol-
lowing Description of these several Parts. An
Aqueduct is a Conduit for conveying Water to
a certain Place by means of a gentle Slope.

The Septum is a Flood-gate or Water-stop

742

1

made at the Sluice for letting the Water into
the Aqueduct. The Castella are Water-houses
or Conduit-heads for the Reception of the
publick Water. The Specus is a Kind of Mill-
dam dug in the Earth. The Calix is the End
or Mouth of the Aqueduct, which discharges
the Water. All these must be made of very
stout Work, the Bottom as strong as possible,
the Plaistering tight and by no means subject
to crack. The Mouth of the Sluice must be
stopt with a Flood-gate, with which you may
shut out the Water when it happens to be tur-
bid, and by means whereof you may have an
Opportunity to mend any Part of the Aque-
duct which is decayed, without being prevent-
ed by the Water; and this Flood-gate must
have a Grate of Brass to it, that Water may
flow into the Aqueduct clearer and more re-
fined, leaving behind it the Feaves, Boughs
and other Trash that fall into it. At every
hundred Cubits must be either a Conduit-head,
or a Mill-dam twenty Foot broad, thirty long,
and fifteen deep below the Bottom of the Chan-
nel; and these are made to the Intent that
those Waters which either fall into the Aque-
duct from the Fai th, or are thrown into it too
violently, may have a Place to subside below
the other Stream, which by that means will
have room to flow on more refined and clear.
The Mouth of the Aqueduct for discharging

743

1

the Water, must vary according to the Quan-
tity of the Stream, and the Situation of the
Pipe by which it makes it discharge. The
greater and more rapid the Stream is from
whence the Water is brought, the more direct
Way it is brought, and the more it has been
confined, the more the Mouth of the Conduit
must be enlarged. If the discharging Pipe be
placed direct to the Stream and Level, it will
maintain an equal Discharge. It has been
found by Experience, that this Pipe is wasted
away by the continual Spray of the Water,
and that no Metals stand it so well as Gold.
Thus much of Conduits and Aqueducts. Wa-
ter may also be brought in leaden Pipes, or ra-
ther in earthen ones, because the Physicians
tell us, that those of Lead occasion an Exco-
riation of the Bowels, and so too will Brass.

THE Learned tell us, that whatever we
either drink or eat, is best preserved in Vessels
of baked Earth, which the least alters their
Taste; alledging that the Earth is the natural
Place of Repose, as well of Water as of every
Thing else which is produced by the Earth.
Wooden Pipes give Water in Time an ill Co-
lour, and an unpleasant Taste. Whatever Ma-
terial they are made of, the Pipes ought to be
as strong as possible. Vessels of Brass are apt
to give the Epilepsy, Canker, and so breed Dis-
orders in the Liver and Spleen. The Sides of
the Pipes must be in Thickness at least one
fourth Part of the Diameter of the Hollow,
and the Joints of the Bricks of which they are
made be mortised into one another, and ce-
mented with unslaked Lime mixed with
Oil; they should also be fortified all round
with strong Brick Work, and strengthened
a good Weight of Work over them, especially
where you bring the Water about winding, or

744

1

where after a Descent it is to rise upwards
again, or where the Pipe upon a short Turn
is straitened and made narrower. For the
Weight and continual Pressure of the Water,
with the Force and Impetuosity of its Cur-
rent, would easily carry away or break the
Bricks. Experienced Workmen, in order to
guard against this Danger, and especially about
the Windings, made use of a living Stone,
and particularly of the red Sort, bored through
for the Purpose. I have seen Pieces of Marble
above twelve Foot long bored through from
one End to the other with a Bore of four
Inches Diameter, which by plain Marks in the
Stone itself appeared to have been made
with an Instrument of Brass turned with a
Wheel and with Sand. In order to prevent
the Effects of this Impetuosity, you may
slacken the Current of the Water, by making
it run winding, not indeed with a shaip Elbow,
but with an easy Sweep, turning sometimes to
the Right, sometimes to the Left, sometimes
rising, sometimes descending with a frequent
Variety. To this you may add somewhat in
the Nature of a Conduit-head or Mill-dam, in
order for the Water to purify there, and also if
any Defect should happen, that you may the
more easily come to see how and where it
must be repaired. But these Pleads should not
be placed in the Bottom of the Sweep of a
Valley, nor where the Water is forced upwards,
but where it keeps on its Course more equally
and gently. If you are obliged to carry your
Conduit-pipes through a Lake or Marsh, you
may do it with a very small Expence, in the
following Manner. Provide some good Tim-
bers of Scarlet Oak, and in them Lengthways
cut a Gutter in Breadth and Depth in Propor-
tion to your Pipes, which you must lay into
this Gutter well cemented with Mortar, and

745

1

bound down with good Cramps of Brass. Then
having laid these Timbers upon a Float across
the Lake, sasten the Ends of them together as
follows. You must have Pipes of Lead of the
same Diameter as those upon your Timbers,
and of such a Length as to allow for bend-
ing as much as may be necessary. These
leaden Pipes, you must insert into your earthen
ones, and cement their Joints with Lime
slacked with Oil, and fortified with Plates of
Brass. Thus join the Ends of the Timber to-
gether, as they hang over your Lloat, till you
bring them from one Shore quite to the other,
and their Pleads rest upon the dry Ground on
each Side. Then withdraw your Lloat, and
having secured the whole Work with good
Ropes, where the Lake is deepest, let it go
down by little and little to the Bottom, as
equally as possible, all the rest sinking by pro-
per Degrees along with it, by which Means
the leaden Pipe will bend according to the
Occasion, and the whole will place itself con-
veniently at the Bottom of the Lake. When
the Conduit is prepared in this Manner with
the first Water which you send into it throw
in some Ashes, that if any of the Joints should
happen not to be perfectly close, they may stop
them up, and help to cement them. You
should also let in the Water by gentle Degrees,
lest rushing in too precipitately, it should
struggle with the Wind which is in the Pipe.

746

1

It is incredible the Violence and Impetuosity
of Nature when the Wind in such a Pipe is re-
strained and compressed too close. I have read
in the Works of the Physicians, that the Bone of
a Man’ s Leg has been broken by the sudden
Irruption of a Vapour so confined. The Ar-
tists in Hydraulics can force Water to leap up
out of a Vessel, by confining a Quantity of Air
between two Waters.

CHAP. VIII.

Of Cisterns, their Uses and Conveniencies.

I now come to speak of Cisterns. A Cistern
is a large Vessel for holding Water, not
unlike the Water-house or Conduit-head. Its
Bottom and Sides therefore must be perfectly
strong and well compacted. There are two
Sorts, one for containing Water for Drinking,
and the other for preserving it for other Uses,
as particularly against sudden Fires. The first
we shall call a Drinking-cistern, the other a
Reservoir. The Drinking-cistern out to pre-
serve its Water in the greatest Purity; because
when it is impure it is the Cause of a great many
Inconveniencies. In both we are to take care
that the Water is properly admitted, preserved
and dispensed. Water is brought into the Cis-
tern by Pipes from the River or Spring, and
sometimes Rain-water from the House-top or
from the Ground. I was extremely pleased
with the Invention of an Architect, who in a
large bare Rock on the Summit of a Hill cut
a round Bason ten Foot deep, which received
all the Rain-water which ran into it from that
naked Rock. Then in the Plain under the
Hill he erected a Water-house, open on every
Side, and built of Brick and Mortar, thirty
Foot high, forty long and forty broad. Into

747

1

this Water-house he brought the Rain-water
from the upper Reservoir by a subterraneous
Conduit of brick Pipe; that Reservoir lying
much higher than the Top of the Water-house.

If you skew the Bottom of your Cistern with
good round Pebbles, or large Gravel from the
River very well washed, or rather fill it with it
to a certain Height, suppose of three Foot, it
will make your Water clear, cool and pure;
and the Higher you make this Strewing, your
Water will be the more limpid. The Water
sometimes runs out at the Joints and Cracks
of the Cistern if it is ill made; and sometimes
the Water is spoiled by Filth. And indeed it
is no easy Matter to keep Water imprisoned,
unless the Reservoir be strongly built, and even
of good square Stone. It is also particularly
necessary, that the Work should be perfectly
dry before you let the Water into it, which
pressing hard upon it with its Weight, and
Sweating through it by means of its Humidi-
ty, if it can but make a small Crack, will be
continually working its Way till it has opened
itself a large Passage. The Ancients guarded
against this Inconvenience, and especially in
the Corners of their Reservoirs, by several Coats
of strong Plaistering, and sometimes by Incrus-
tations of Marbles. But nothing better pre-
vents this oozing out of the Water, than Chalk
close rammed in between the Wall of the Cis-
tern and the Side of the Trench in which it is
made. We order the Chalk which we use for
this Puipose to be thoroughly dried and beat
into Powder. Some think, that if you fill a
Glass Vessel with Salt, and stop it up close
with a Plaister of Mortar tempered with Oil,
that no Water may get in, and then hang it
down in the Middle of the Cistern, it will pre-
vent the Water from corrupting, let it be kept
ever so long. Some add Quick-silver to the

748

1

Composition. Others say, that if you take a
new earthen Vessel full of sharp Vinegar, stopt
up as above, and set it in the Water, it will en-
tirely clear it from all Slime. They tell us too,
that either a Ciftern or a Well are purified by
putting some small Fish into them, thinking
that the Fish feed upon the Slime of the Wa-
ter and of the Earth. We are told of an old
Saying of Epigenes, that Water which has been
once corrupted, will in Time recover and pu-
rify itself, and after that never spoil any more.
Water which is beginning to corrupt, if it is
stirred about, and poured often out of one Ves-
sel into another, will lose its ill Smell, which
will also hold good of Wine and Oil that is
mothery. Josephus relates, that when Moses
came to a dry Place, where there was only one
Spring of Water, and that foul and bitter, he
commanded the Soldiers to draw it; and upon
their beating and stirring it about heartily, it
became drinkable. It is certain that Water
may be purified by boiling and straining; and

749

1

we are told that Water which is nitrous and
bitter, by throwing Barley-flower into it may
be so sweetened, as to be fit to drink in two
Hours Time. But in order to refine the Wa-
ter of your Drinking-cisterns more effectually,
make a little Well close to your Cistern enclos-
ed with its own proper Wall, and its Bottom a
small matter lower than the Bottom of the Cis-
tern. This Well on the Side next the Cistern
must have some small Openings filled up either
with Spunge or with Pumice-stone, that the
Water which gets out of the Cistern into the
Well may be thoroughly strained and leave all
its coarse Mixture behind it. In the Territory
of Tarragona in Spain, is found a white Pu-
mice-stone very full of small Pores, through
which Water is presently strained to the great-
est Clearness. It will also come out extreme-
ly limpid if you fill up the Aperture, through
which the Water must pass, with a Pot bored
full of Holes on every Side, and filled with
River-sand, in order for the Water to make its
Way through this fine Strainer. At Bologna,
they have a soft sandy Stone of a yellow Colour,
through which the Water distills Drop by
Drop till it is wonderfully refined. Some
make Bread of Sea-water; than which nothing
can be more unwholesome. But yet those
Strainers which we have mentioned are so ef-
fectual that they will make even Sea-water
wholesome and sweet. Solinus says, that if
Sea-water is passed through a white Clay it
will become sweet; and we find by Experience
that when it has been often strained through
a fine Sand, it loses its Saltness. If you sink
an earthen Pot close stopped, into the Sea, it
will be filled with fresh Water. Nor is it fo-
reign to our Puipose what we are told, that
when the Water of the Nile is taken up into
any Vessel proves foul, if you rub the Vessel

750

1

just about the Edge of the Water with an Al-
mond, it will presently make it clear. When
your Conduit Pipes begin to be stopt with
Slime or Dirt, take a Gall-nut, or a Ball made
of the Bark of Cork, tied to a long thin Pack-
thread. When the Current of the Water has
carried this Ball to the other End of the Pipe,
tie to the Pack-thread another stronger Cord
with a Wisp of Broom fastened to it, which
being drawn backwards and forwards in the
Pipe, will clear away the Dirt that stopt it up.

CHAP. IX.

Of planting a Vineyard in a Meadow, or a Wood in a Marsh; and how we
may amend a Region which is molested with too much Water.

I now proceed to other Conveniencies. We
observed that Food and Rayment was to
provided for the Inhabitants. With these we
are to be supplied by Agriculture, an Art
which it is not our Business to treat of here.

Yet there are some Cases wherein the Archi-
tect may be of Service to the Husbandman:

As particularly when a Piece of Ground being
either too dry or too wet, is not in a good
Condition for Tillage. A Vineyard may be
planted in a moist Meadow in the following
Manner: Dig Trenches running from East to
West in straight Lines, at equal Distances from
each other, and as deep as may be, each nine
Foot broad and fifteen Foot distant from one
another, and throw up the Earth which you
dig out of the Trenches on the Intervals be-
tween them, in such a Manner, that the Slope
may lie open to the Mid-day Sun: and these lit-
tle artificial Hills will be very proper for Vines
and very fruitful. On the contrary, upon a dry
Hill you may make a Meadow by the following
Method: Dig a long square Trench in the

751

1

upper Part of the Hill, with its Sides all equally
high and exactly level. Into this Trench bring
Water from the next Springs above it. which
running over on the lower Side will equally and
continually water the Ground beneath. In the
Country of Verona , a Soil full of round Stones,
very naked and barren, the Inhabitants in some
Places, by continual watering it, have raised
very fine Grass and so turned it into a beautiful
Meadow. If you desire to have a Wood grow
in a Marsh, turn up the Ground with the
Plough, and entirely grub up all Brambles,
and then sow it with Acorns about the Time
of Sun-rise. This Plantation will grow up in-
to a thick Wood, and the Trees will draw to
themselves most of the superfluous Moisture:
And the spreading of the Roots together with
the falling of the Leaves and Sprigs, will raise
the Ground higher. Afterwards if you bring

752

1

down some Land-flood upon it, which may
subside there, it will make a Crust over the
whole. But of this in another Place. If the
Region is subject to Inundations, as Lombardy
along the Banks of the Po; Venice, and some
other Place; in that Case, several Particulars
are to be considered: For the Water is trouble-
some either from its over-abundance, or from
its Motion, or from both these. Upon these
we shall make some brief Observations. The
Emperor Claudius bored through a Hill near
the Lake Fucinus, and so carried away the su-
perfluous Water into the River; and perhaps it
was for the same Reason, that M. Curius open-
ed a Way for the Lake Velinus to discharge it-
self into the Sea. Thus we see the Lake Ne-
morensis, carried into the Lake Laurentina
through a Hill bored on puipose; to which
we owe those pleasant Gardens and that fruit-
ful Grove which lie below the Former of those
Lakes.

Ccesar had Thoughts of cutting a Number
of Trenches near Herda in Spain, in order to
discharge some Part of the Water of the River
Sicoris. The Erymanthus, a River of Arcadia,
very full of Windings, is almost exhausted by
the Inhabitants in watering their Lands, by
which means his Remains fall into the Sea with-
out so much as preserving his Name. Cyrus
cut the Ganges into a vast Number of Canals,
Eutropius says, no less than four hundred and
sixty, by which he so sunk that River, that it
might easily be forded, and sometimes even dri-
shod. Near the Tomb of King Hcdyattes, in
the Country of the Sardes, built chiefly by the
female Slaves, is the Lake Coloe, dug by Art
on puipose to receive Inundations. Myris dug
a Lake in Mesopotamia above the City, three
hundred and forty Furlongs in Circumference,

753

1

and threescore Cubits deep, to receive the Nile
whenever it rose higher than usual. Besides
the strong Banks made for keeping in the Eu-
phrates, that it might not overflow and wash
away the Houses, some Lakes were also dug,
together with some vast hollow Caves, that the
standing Water in those might receive and
break the Fury of Inundations. Thus much
may suffice of Waters which are apt to over-
flow, or to do Mischief by the Impetuosity of
their Motion. If any thing is wanting to this
Head, we shall insert it immediately, when we
come to speak of Rivers and the Sea.

CHAP. X.

Of Roads; of Passages by Water, and of artificial Banks to Rivers.

The next Business is to get as conveni-
ently as is possible from abroad, those
Necessaries which we cannot be supplied with
at home. To this Purpose are Roads and
Highways, which are to be made such, that
whatever is wanting may be easily brought, in
its proper Season. There are two Sorts of
Highways, one by Land, the other by Water,
as we hinted in the formar Part of this Work.

Care is to be taken that the Highway by Land
is not too deep, nor too much broke by Car-
riages; and besides those Causeways which we
have spoken of formerly, we should be sure to
let them be open to a good deal of Sun and to
a free Air, and that they be not covered with
too much Shade. In our Days, near the Wood
by Ravenna, the Road which used to be very
bad, has been made extremely convenient by
cutting down the Trees, and admitting the
Sun to it. We may generally observe little
Puddles under Trees which stand by the Side
of the Road, occasioned by the Tread of Cat-

754

1

tie, and the Shade preventing the Ground
from drying so fast as it otherwise would do,
so that the Rain always settles and lies there.
Highways (if we may so call them) by Water
are of two Sorts: One which may be corrected
and forced; as Rivers or Canals; the other
which cannot; as the Sea. We may venture
to say, that there happen the same Faults in a
River as we find in a smaller Vessel for con-
taining Water; that is, that perhaps either the
Sides, or the Bottom are defective or not sound
and convenient. For as a large Quantity of
Water is necessary for the carrying of Ships, if
it is not contained in stout Banks, it may break
its Way through them and drown all the Coun-
try, and so even spoil the Highways on Shore.
If the Bottom be very steep, how can we ima-
gine that a Ship can make its Way up against
the Rapidity of the Stream? and if it rises in-
to Shelves, it will spoil the Navigation. Upon
bringing the famous Obelisk from A Egypt to
Rome, it was found that the Tyber was a more
convenient River for Navigation than the Nile.
The latter indeed was much broader, but the

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former was of a more convenient Depth: For
it is not so much a great Plenty as a good Depth
of Water that is necessary for Navigation.
Though a handsome Breadth is very conveni-
ent too. because by that means the Streams
comes slower against the Banks. A River
that has not a sound Bottom, will scarce
have strong Banks; and scarce any Bottom
can be called sound, which has not such a
Strength as we have formerly required in the
Foundations of Buildings, namely, to be so solid
as in a Manner to defy even Tools of Iron.

Thus the Bottom will be uncertain if the Banks
are chalky, or if the River runs along a flat
Plain, or if the Soil is covered with loose round
Stones. When the Banks of a River are un-
firm, its Channel will be stopt up with Shelves,
Ruins, broken Trunks of Trees, and soft
Stones. The weakest Sides of all, and the most
variable, are those thrown up by some sudden
Inundation. From this Weakness of the Sides
follows what is said of the Meander and the
Euphrates , the former of which we are told,
used easily to cut through his soft Banks and
be daily running into new Windings, and the
Euphrates on the other Fland was continually
stopping up the Canals, through which he was
conveyed, with the Ruins of his Shore. These
Defects in the natural Banks the Ancients used
to remedy with artificial ones; the Rules for
which are much the same with those for
other Kinds of Structures; for we are to con-
sider well with what Lines we erect it, and with
what Kind of Work. If the artificial Bank is
built in a parallel Line with the Current of the
River, the Force of the Stream will never bear
against it: But if it is built so as to stand
against the Current, if it is not very strong it
will be overthrown by it; or if it be too low
the Water will overflow it. If such a Bank be

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1

not overthrown, it will be continually growing
higher and higher at the Bottom, because there
every Thing which the Stream brings along
with it will stop, till at last having made a Hill
against it which it can remove no further, it
will be apt to turn its Course another Way. If
the Force of the Water throws down the Bank,
then it will have those Effects natural to it,
which we observed before, by filling all the
Hollows, driving out the Air, and sweeping
away every Thing that it meets in its Passage:
But still leaving behind it by Degrees as it
slackens the Violence of its own Course, such
heavy Things as are not easily carried far.

Thus in the Mouth of the Breach which the
River makes in its Banks, the Inundation will
leave a Shelf of coarse Sand of a considerable
Height; but as it goes further it will only co-
ver the Ground with a small Slime. If the
River does not immediately break down its
Bank, but only overflows the Top of it,
the Violence with which it falls upon the
Ground on the other Side of it will wash away
the Earth, till by Degrees it undermines and
brings down the whole Bank itself. If the Cur-
rent neither is parallel with the Bank, nor sets
against it directly, but only strikes it oblique-
ly, it will bear no less, in Proportion to the
Angle of its Obliquity, against the Sides to
which it is thrown off, than against that which
it meets with first. And indeed this Flexion
will give it somewhat of the Nature of a Bank
that fronts the Current directly; so that it will
be liable to the very same Injuries as the latter.
Thus the Bank will be washed away so much
the sooner, as the Eddies of the Water will be
more vehement and furious, foaming, and in a
Manner boiling with Violence: For these
Whirls and Eddies in a River seem to have
somewhat of the Nature and Force of a Screw,

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1

which no Strength or Solidity can long resist.
We may observe as well under Stone Bridges,
how deep the Channel is dug by the Fall of the
Water; as in those Paid of the River where after
having been some Time confined within nar-
rower Banks, it finds a broader Channel to ex-
tend itself in, with what Fury it breaks out,
rowling into Variety of Eddies, and tearing
away every Thing that it meets with, either
from the Banks or from the Bottom. I dare
venture to affirm, that Hadrian ’ s Bridge at
Rome, is one of the stoutest Pieces of Work
that perhaps ever was performed; and yet the
Fury of the Water has so decay’ d it, that I
dread its Destruction: For the Land-floods
every Year load its Piers with Boughs and
Trunks of Trees which they bring down
along with them, and in a great Measure stop
up the Arches. This makes the Water rise still
higher, and then it falls down percipitately in-
to wild Eddies, which undermine the Back of
the Piers and endanger the whole Structure.
Thus much of the Banks: Let us now say
something of the Bottom of the River. He-
rodotus relates, that Nitocris, King of the Assy-
rians, slackened the Course of the River Eu-
phrates near Mesopotamia, which before was
too impetuous, by making its Channel wind
about more than it used to do. It is also rea-
sonable to suppose that the Water which has

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1

the slowest Current will be the most lasting:

Which may be somewhat illustrated by the
Comparison of a Man that descends from a
steep Hill, and who comes down not direct
and as fast as he can, but fetching different
Compasses about the Sides, sometimes to the
right Hand, and sometimes to the Left. The
Rapidity of the Stream proceeds from the Steep-
ness of the Channel. A Current either too
swift or too slow, is inconvenient. The for-
mer demolishes the Banks; the latter produ-
ces Weeds, and is easily frozen. Making the
River narrower may perhaps force the Water
to rise higher, and another Way to make it
deeper is digging the Channel, lower. Deep-
ening the Channel, removing Impediments,
and clearing the River are all done by the
same Methods and for the same Puiposes,
whereof we shall speak presently: But deepen-
ing the Bottom of a River will be in vain, un-
less we go on to do it quite away to the Sea,
in order to give the Stream its due Slope all
the Way.

CHAP. XI.

Of Canals; how they are to be kept well supplied with Water, and the Uses
of them not obstructed.

We now proceed to speak of Canals.

What we are to provide for in these,
is that they be well supplied with Water, and
that the Uses for which they are intended be
not obstructed. There are two Ways of prevent-
ing their failing. The first is to have a large
Quantity of Water constantly running into them
from some other Stream; the second is to con-
trive that they keep what does come into them
as long as can be. The Water is to be brought
into Canals in the manner above set down: and

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1

our Diligence must prevent their Uses from be-
ing obstructed, by often cleaning them, and
removing whatever Incumbrances may be
brought into them. A Canal is said to be a
sleeping River; and it should therefore have
all the same Properties which a River has, and
especially its Bottom and Sides should be per-
fectly sound, that the Water may neither be
sucked up, nor run out at any Cracks. It
should be more deep than broad, as well for the
better carrying off all Sorts of Vessels, as that it
may be less exhausted by the Sun and breed the
fewer Weeds. A great many Canals were cut
from the Euphrates to the Tygris, because the
Channel of the former lay higher than that of
the Latter. Lombardy lying between the Po
and the Adige, is every where navigable by
Canals; an Advantage which it gains by ly-
ing all upon a Flat. Diodorus tells us, that
when Ptolomey went out of the Mouth of the
Nile, he opened a Canal on Purpose, and had
it stopp’ d up as soon as he was got through it.
The Remedies for the several Faults of either
Canals or Rivers are confining, clearing and
stopping them. Rivers are confined by arti-
ficial Banks. The Line of such Banks should
not restrain the River at once, but by degrees,
by means of an easy Slope. When you would
set it at Liberty again from a narrow Channel
into a wider Breadth, you must observe the
same Method, not let it out at once, but gently,
lest upon too sudden an Enlargment it does
Mischief by Eddies and Whirlpools. The River
Melas used of old to run into the Euphrates;
but King Artanatrix, perhaps out of a Desire
to make his Name famous, stopp’ d it up and
overslowed the Country all round: but soon
afterwards the Waters return’ d with such Ed-
dies and so much Fury that they tore up all
that resisted them, washed away a great many

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1

Estates, and laid Waste a great Part of Phrygia
and Galatia. The Roman Senate fined the
King for this audacious Attempt, in thirty Ta-
lents. Nor is it foreign to our Purpose just to
mention what we read of Iphicrates the A—
thenian, that when he was besieging Stymphalus
in Arcadia he attempted with a vast Quantity
of Spunge to stop up the River Erasinus which
enters into the Hill and rises up again in the
Country of Arges; but by the Admonition of
Jupiter he laid aside the Design. I advise
therefore, that your artificial Bank be made as
strong as possible. This Strength must be
owing to the Solidity of your Materials, your
Method of putting them together, and the
Breadth of the whole Work. Where it is ne-
cessary that the Water should run over this
Bank, do not let the Outside of it be a Per-
pendicular, but fall in an easy Slope, that the
Water may run down it easily and not form
any Eddies. If in its Fall it begins to dig up

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the Bank, fill up the Holes immediately, not
with trifling Materials, but with large, solid,
square Stone. It may also be of Service to
lay Bundles of Brushwood underneath the Fall
of the Water, to break its Force before it
comes to the Bottom. We see that the Tyber at
Rome is for the most Part confined with solid
Masonry. Semiramis, not contented with a
strong Bank of Brick, covered it with a Coat
of Plaister made of Bitumen, no less than four
Cubits in Thickness, with Walls for many Fur-
longs together equally high with those of the
City. But these are Royal Works. For us,
we may be contented with a Bank of Earth,
like that of Nitocris in Assyria, which was of
Mud, or like those Banks in France which con-
fine some very great Rivers, in such a Manner
that they seem to hang in the Air, the Water
in some Places being above the Level of the
Tops of the Cottages: and we may be satisfied
if we can have our Bridges of Stone. Some
commend the Grass Turfs cut out of a Meadow
for making up of Banks: and I think they
will do very well, because the interweaving of
their Roots will fortify the Work, provided
they be rammed very close together: for the
whole Bank, and especially that Part of it
which is washed by the Water, ought to be
so solid as not to be penetrated or disunited.
Some interlace Rods of Ozier in the Bank;
and this makes a very firm Bank, but then it
will last but for a Time, for as such Rods easily
rot, little Rills of Water will penetrate into the
Places of the Twigs which are decayed, and
working their Way onwards, will be apt to
enlarge their Passage till the whole River may
break through in great Streams. There will
not indeed be so much Danger of this if we
take the Oziers when they are green. Others
plant Willows, Elder, Poplars and such other

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Trees as love the Water along the Shores in
close Rows. This has some Advantages; but
then it is attended with the same Inconveni-
ence which we just now mentioned; for when
the Roots decay, the Water will work its Way
into their Cavities. Others (which I am very
well pleased with) plant the Shore with all
Manner of Shrubs that flourish in the Water,
and strike out more Root than Branches, such
as Lavender, Bulrush, Reeds, and especially
Withes; the last of which pushes out a great
deal of Root, and pierces down into the Earth
with very long Fibres, which are continually
making new Shoots, while at the same Time
its Head is but small, is very pliant, and does
not resist the Stream; and which adds to the
Advantage, this Plant, out of its particular Love
to Water, advances on continually even into
the Current. But where the Bank runs on
parallel with the strong Current of the River,
the Shore ought to be entirely naked and clear,
that nothing may disturb or enrage the Stream,
but that it may run on peaceably. Where the
Bank winding about stands against the Set of
the Current, that it may make the stouter Re-
sistance, let it be fortified with good Plank.

But if the whole Force of the River is to be
withstood and opposed; then, in the Summer,
when the Water is lowest, and the Shore is
left dry, make Hurdles bound about strong
Stakes of a good Fength, and fastened to them
very tight with stout Braces; lay these Hur-
dles with the Heads of the Stakes against the
Current of the Stream, and drive Piles through
them, by Holes made in them before-hand for
that Puipose, as deep as the Nature of the Bot-
tom will permit. When this is knit together,
join other Beams to them crossways, and fill up
this Frame with large Stones cemented toge-
ther with Mortal” or where the Expence of

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1

Mortar cannot be afforded, you may knit them
together by throwing Bavins of Juniper in a-
rnongst them. This great Weight will pre-
vent the Water from stilling the Frame; and
if any Eddies should get within it, they will
do rather Good than Flarm, for by endeavour-
ing to work downwards they will make the
whole Weight of Stone sink still lower, and
so strengthen the Foundation still more. But
if the River always keeps at such a Fleight,
that there is no Opportunity to make such a
Frame, then we must make use of those Me-
thods which we formerly taught for erecting
the Piers of a Bridge.

CHAP. XII.

Of the Sea Wall; of strengthening the Port; and of Locks for confin ing the
Water of a River.

The Sea-shore also is to be fortified with
artificial Banks, but not in the same
Manner as the River, whose Streams does Mif-
chief in a different Manner from the Waves of
the Sea. We are told, that the Sea in its own
Nature is quiet and peaceable, but it is agi-

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1

tated and drove about by the Winds, which
push on the Waves in great Rows to the Shore,
where if they meet with Opposition, especially
from any hard rugged Body they beat against
them with their whole Strength, and being
dashed back again they break, and falling from
on high with continual Repetition dig up and
demolish whatever resists their Fury. A full
Proof of this is the great Depth of Water
which we constantly find under high Rocks
by the Sea-side. But when the Shore runs off
with an easy Descent, the raging Sea not find-
ing any Thing to exert its Force against, grows
quiet, and falls back less furious upon itself;
and if it has brought any Sand along with it,
leaves it there; by which Means we see such
Shores growing higher and higher into the Sea
every Day. But when the Sea meets with a
Promontory, and afterwards with a Bay, the
Current runs impetuously along the Shore, and
turns back again upon itself; which is the Rea-
son that in such Places we frequently meet with
deep Channels cut under the Shore. Others
maintain, that the Sea hath a Breath and Res-
piration of its own, and pretend to observe,
that no Man ever dies naturally but when the
Tide is going off, whence they would infer, that
our Life has some Connection and Relation
with the Motion and Life of the Sea: but this
is not worth Dwelling upon. It is certain, that
the Tides rise and fall variously in different
Places. The Negropont has no less than six
Tides every Day. At Constantinople it has no
other Change but by flowing into the Pontus.

In the Propontis the Sea naturally throws upon
the Shore every Thing that is brought down
into it by the Rivers: because every Thing
which is put into an unnatural Agitation rests
of Course where-ever it finds a Place which is
not disturbed. But as upon almost all Shores

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we see Heaps of Sand or Stones thrown up, it
may not be a miss just to mention the Conjec-
tures of the Philosophers upon this Occasion.

I have said elsewhere, that Sand is form’ d of
Mud dried by the Sun, and separated by the
Heat into very minute Particles. Stones are
supposed to be engendered by the Sea-water;
sor they tell us, that by Means of the Sun’ s
Heat and of Motion, the Water grows warm,
dries, and its lighter Parts evaporating hardens
into a Consistence, which grows to have so
much Solidity, that if the Sea is but a little
while at rest, it by degrees contracts a slimy
Crust, of a bituminous Nature; this Crust in
Time is afterwards broken, and by new Motion
and Collision the new-made Substance becomes
globular, and grows somewhat like a Spunge:
These globular Spunges are earned to the Shore,
where by their Sliminess they lick up the
Sand which is put into Agitation, which again
is dried and concocted by the Heat of the
Sun, and by the Salts, till by Length of Time
it hardens into Stone. This is the Conjecture
of the Philosophers. We frequently see the
Shore grow higher and higher towards the
Mouth of Rivers, especially if they flow through
loose Grounds, and are much subject to Land-
floods; for such Rivers throw up vast Quan-
tities of Sand and Stones before their Mouths
into the Sea, and so lengthen out the Shore.

This manifestly appears from the Danube, the
Phasis in Colchis, and others, and especially in
the Nile. The Ancients called A Egypt the
Nile ‘ s House, and tell us, that it was formerly
covered by the Sea quite as far as the Pelusian
Marshes. So it is related, that a great Paid of
Cilicia was added to it by the River. Aristotle
says, that all Things are in perpetual Motion,
and that in length of Time the Sea and the
Hills will change Places with one another.

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Hence the Saying of the Poet:

All that the Earth in her dark Womb conceals,
Time shall dig up and drag to open Light.

BUT to return. The Waves have this par-
ticular’ Property, that when they meet with any
Bank which resists them, they dash against it
with the more Fury; and being beaten back,
according to the Height they fall from, the
more Sand they root up. This appears from
the great Depth of the Sea under the Rocks, a-
gainst which they beat with much more Vio-
lence, than they fall upon a soft and sloping
Sand. This being the Case, it requires great
Diligence and the most careful Contrivance to
restrain the Rage and Strength of the Sea,
which will many Times defeat all our Art and
Ability, and is not easily subdued by the Pow-
er of Man. However, the Sort of Work which
we formerly recommended for the Foundati-
ons of a Bridge may be of some Service in this
Case. But if it is necessary for us to cany
out a Pier into the Sea in order to fortify a
Port, we must begin our Work upon the dry
Ground, and so by Additions work it forwards
into the Sea. Our first and greatest Care must
be to chuse a firm Soil for this Structure; and
where-ever you raise it, raise it up with a
Slope of the lightest Stones that can be got, in

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1

order to break the Fury of the Waves, that
not finding any Thing to beat against
with their whole Strength, they may fall back
gently and not with too violent a Precipitation.
Thus the Wave which is upon Return will
meet that which is coming on, and deaden its
Force. The Mouths of Rivers seem to be of
the same Nature with the Port, as they afford
Shelter to Vessels against Storms. They ought
therefore to be fortified and made narrower to
exclude the Fury of the Sea. Propertius says,

Resolve to conquer or be o ‘ ercome,

This is the Wheel of Love

IT is the same in this Case; for the Mouths
of Rivers by the incessant Attacks of the Sea
are either overcome and filled up with Sand;
or else by a constant and obstinate Resistance,
they conquer and keep their Passages clear.

For this Reason it is an admirable Method to
open the River a double Discharge into the
Sea by two different Branches, if you have but
Water enough to supply them; not only that
Ships may be able to get in at one of them,
though the Wind be contrary for the other;
but also that if one of them be stopt up, either
by some Storm at Sea, or by some strong
Wind blowing into it, in such a Manner that
the Land-floods would be driven back again
into the Country, they may have another Pass-
age open to discharge themselves into the Sea.
But of this enough. The next Point is how
to clean a River. Ccesar took a great deal of
Care about cleaning the Tyber, which was stopt
up with Rubbish, and there are vast Heaps of
the Stuff that was taken out still to be seen not
far from the River, as well within the City as
without. By what Methods he got so much
Rubbish out of so swift a River, I do not re-

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member to have read: But I suppose he made
use of Frames to shut out the River and then
emptying the Water out of them, he might
easily take out the Rubbish. These Frames
are made in the following Manner: Prepare
some strong Timbers cut square, with Grooves
cut in the Sides of them from Top to Bottom
four Inches deep, and in Breadth equal to the
Thickness of the Planks which you intend to
use in this Work; and prepare your Planks al-
so of equal Length and Thickness with one
another. Flaving got these Things ready,
drive down your Timbers so as they may stand
perpendicular, at Distances from each other
equal to the Length of your Planks. When
your Timbers are well fixed, let your Planks
into the Grooves and drive them down to the
Bottom. Our Workmen call these Frames
Cataracts. Go on in the same Manner to fill
up the Spaces between the Timbers with Planks
and drive them as close together as possible.
Then go to work immediately with your
Pumps. Syphons, Buckets and all your other
Implements for emptying out the Water, put-
ting on as many Flands as you can, and labour-
ing without Intermission till you have thrown
out all the Water within your Inclosure. If it
leaks in any Part, stop up the Crack with any
old Rags: And thus the Business may be done.
Between this Frame and that which we men-
tioned as necessary in the Building of Bridges,
there is this Difference; that the latter must be
stable and lasting, being to stand not only till
the Piers are built, but even till the Super-
structure is settled; whereas this is only tem-
porary, and as soon as the Dirt is got out to be
presently removed to another Place. But I
advise you, whether you clean your River by
the Flelp of this Frame, or by turning the
Course of the Water, that you do not pretend

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to strive against the whole Force of the Stream
at a Time in any one Place, but go on Step by
Step and by Degrees. All Works raised against
the Violence of Waters, if they are made in
the Form of Arches, with their Backs turned
against the Weight of the Water, they will be
able to make the stouter Resistance. You may
level a Torrent or Water-fall by laying a Bar-
rier across the Stream in such a Manner that the
Water is obliged to rise a good deal higher
than usual: For the Water running over from
the Top of this Barrier, will dig up the Ridge
in the Channel by its fall; and then even the
Channel above the Torrent, quite to the Spring
will be levelled in Proportion to the lower
Part of the Channel; for the Water in its De-
scent will be continually moving and carrying
away the Fai th. You may clean your Chan-
nel by turning Oxen into it in the following
Manner: Stop it up that the Water may swell;
then drive your Cattle about in it so that they
may disturb all the Mud, and then opening the
Stream that the Water may pour in rapidly, it
will wash and carry away all the Dirt. If any
thing lies buried and fixed in the Stream so as
to spoil the Navigation, besides the common
Machines used by Workmen for removing such
Obstructions, it is a very good Method to load
a Barge deep, and to it fasten with Ropes the
Impediment which you would pull up: Then

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unload the Barge, which by that Means rising
higher in the Water, will pull up what is tyed
to it. It will be a Help to the Operation, if
you keep the Vessel stirring about by moving
the Rudder backwards and forwards while you
are unloading it; to shew the Use of which,

I shall just mention, that in the Country of
Prceneste I have seen a moist Sort of Clay into
which if you run a Stick or a Sword but the
Depth of a single Cubit, it was not by the
Force of a Man’ s Arm to be got out again by
pulling; but if as you pulled you wriggled
your Arm backwards and forwards as Men do
that are turning a Skrew, it would easily come
forth. At Genoa there was a Rock lying un-
der the Surface of the Water so as to stop up
the Entrance into the Port. A Man was found
in our Age, endued with surprizing Qualifica-
tions both of Art and Nature, who broke it
away, and laid the Passage very wide. It is
said, that this Man used to stay under Water
many Hours together, without ever coming
up to take Breath. You may take up the Mud
from the Bottom by means of an Oyster-net
covered with Tarpawlins; for as you draw it
along it will fill itself. You may also fetch it
up from the Bottom, where the Sea is shallow,
with the following Contrivance. You must
have two Smacks, like those of Fishermen; in
the Stern of one of these you must have an
Axis upon which a very long Pole must swing
like the Beam of a Balance; to that End of
the Pole which lies out from the Stern must
be fasten’ d a Shovel three Foot broad and six
long. By lowering down this Shovel to the
Bottom you scoop up the Mud, and so throw
it into the other Smack which lies by for that
Puipose. From these Principles many other
Engines yet more useful may be contrived;
but to speak of them here would be too tedi-

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ous. And thus much may suffice for cleaning
any Channel. The Locks in a River are made
either by Sluices or Flood-gates. For either of
these the Sides must be made full as strong as
the Piers of a Bridge. We may draw up the
heaviest Sluice without Danger to our Men. by
applying to the Spindle or Windless which is
to draw up the Sluice Wheels notch’ d with
Teeth like the Wheels in a Clock, which must
take hold of the Teeth of the other Spindle
which is to be put in Motion by them. But
the most convenient of all is the Flood-gate,
which in the Middle has a Spindle that turns
upon a perpendicular Axis; to this Spindle is
fastened a broad square Valve, like the square
Sail of a Barge which may be easily turned
about to which Side of the Vessel the Master
pleases; but the two Sides of this Valve shall
not be exactly equal to one another in Breadth,
but let one be above three Inches narrower
than the other; by which means it may be
opened by a Child, and will shut again of
itself; because the Weight of the broader Side
will exceed that of the Narrower. To
each Lock you ought to make two Stops,
cutting the River in two Places, and leaving
a Space between them equal to the Length of
a Vessel, to the Intent, that if the Vessel is to
ascend, when it comes to the Stop the lower
Sluice may be shut the upper one opened; or
if it be to descend, the upper one may be shut
and the lower opened; for by this means the
Vessel will run down with the lower Paid of
the Stream, while the rest of the Water is
stopp’ d by the upper Sluice. There is one
Thing which I must not omit concerning
publick Ways, that I may have no Occasion
for Repetition; namely, that the Streets of a
Town ought never to be heaped up with any
Sort of Rubbish, as it is grown a bad Custom

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to do under the Notion of mending them,
which should rather be done by removing and
carrying away all the Superfluities; lest the
Houses come in Time to be buried, and the
Level of the Town to be sunk under Rub-
bish.

CHAP. XIII.

Of the Remedies for some other Inconveniencies.

I shall now proceed to the Remedies for some
other Inconveniencies of smaller Moment;
in which I shall be as brief as possible. In
some Places, upon bringing Water to them,
the Country has been made warmer; in others,
colder. Near Larissa in Thessaly there was a
Field covered with a standing Water, which
made the Air heavy and hot. Upon carrying
off this Water, and laying the Field dry, the
Country became cooler. The contrary hap-

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pened at Philippi, where, as we are informed
by Theophrastus, upon drawing off the Water
and drying up a Lake, the Country was made
wanner. The Cause of these Alterations is
supposed to have lain in the Purity or Gross-
ness of the Air; for a thick Air is more dif-
ficultly moved, and longer retains either the
Heat or the Cold than a thin one, which is
soon apt to be frozen with Cold, or on a Change
of Weather, to be warmed again with the Sun’ s
Heat. A Country which lies uncultivated and
neglected is said to afford a thick and unhealthy
Air; and in Places so much covered with
Wood, that neither Sun nor Wind can easily
get through, the Air is generally crude. The
Caves about the Lake Avemus were so sur-
rounded with thick Woods that the Sulphur
which exhaled from them used to kill the Birds
which flew over them: But Ccesar, by cutting
down those Woods, made that pestilential Spot
of Ground very healthy. At Leghorn a Sea-port
Town in Tuscany, the Inhabitants used always
to be afflicted with severe Fevers in the Dog-
days: By banking off the Sea with a
good Wall, the Town was freed from those
Distempers; but afterwards, when they let the
Water again into their Ditches, for the better
Fortification of the Place, their Fevers return’ d.
Varro writes, that when his Camp lay in the
Island of Coroyra (now Corfu ) and his Soldiers
died apace of Pestilence; by keeping all the
Windows towards the South close shut, he
preserved his Army. At Murano, a famous
Town belonging to the Venetians, they are
very seldom touched with the Plague, though,
their neighbouring Metropolis, Venice, is sre-
quently and severely afflicted with it. The
Reason of this is supposed to be the great
Number of Glass-houses there; for it is very
certain that the Air is wonderfully purged by

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Fire. And for a Proof that all Manner of
Poisons hate the Fire, it is observed, that the
dead Bodies of poisonous Animals do not breed
Worms, like others; because it is the Nature
of Poison to destroy and totally to extinguish
the Principles of Life: But if such Bodies are
touched by Lightening they will engender
Worms, because then their Poison is destroyed
by Fire; for Worms are bred in the dead Bo-
dies of Animals from no other Cause than a
certain fiery Power in Nature working upon a
Flumidity which is apt to be put in Motion by
a Fleat which it is the Property of Poison to
extinguish, where it prevails, as it is itself ex-
tinguished by it, where that Fleat is the most
powerful. If you root out poisonous Flerbs,
and especially Squills, the good Plants will
draw to themselves the bad Nourishment which
they used to imbibe from the Earth, by which
means our Food will be corrupted. It may be
of Service to shelter your Flouse from unwhole-
some Winds by a Grove and especially of Ap-
ple-trees; for it is of a good deal of Conse-
quence out of the Shade of what Leaves you
receive you Air. Pitch-trees are faid to be
very good for Phthysical Folks, or for those
who are recovering their Flealth slowly after
long Sickness. It is contrary with Trees which
have a bitter Leaf, for they yield an unwhole-
some Air. Thus where-ever the Country is
low, close and mashy, it will be of Service to
lay it quite open to the Sun and Air; because
the Damps and noxious Animals which arise
from such Places will be presently destroyed
by Dryness and Winds. At Alexandria is a
publick Place to which the Filth and Rubbish
of the Town is earned, and it is now grown
up to such a Hill, that it serves as a Land-mark
to Mariners to find their Way into the Port.

How much more convenient would it not be

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1

to fill up low hollow Places with such Stuff?
Thus at Venice, (for which I highly applaud
them) they have in my Time filled up several
of their Marshes with the Rubbish of the Town.
Herodotus tells us. that the People who live a-
rnong the Marshes in /Egypt, in order to avoid
the Gnats, lie a Nights in very high Towers.

At Ferrara by the Po few or no Gnats appear
within the City; but out of Town, to those
who are not used to them, they are execrable.

It is supposed that they are driven from the
Town by the great Quantity of Smoke and
Fire. Flies do not haunt Places which are
cold or exposed to much Wind, and especial-
ly where the Windows are very high. Some
say that Flies will not enter where the Tail of
a Wolf is buried, and that a Squill hung up
will also drive away venomous Animals. The
Ancients made use of a great many Defences
against the violent Fleats; among which I am
very well pleased with their Crypts or subter-
raneous Porticoes, Vaults, which received Light
no where but from the Top. They were also
fond of Flails with large Windows turned away
from the South, open to a cool Air, and shad-
ed by some neighbouring Edifice. Metellus,
the Son of Octavia, Augustus ‘ s Sister, made an
Awning over the Forum with Sails, that
the People might follow their Causes without
prejudicing their Flealths. But Air is more

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1

effectual to cooling any Place than Shade, as you
may find by hanging a Sail upright before that
Place to keep out the Air. Pliny tells us, that they
used to make Places in their Houses on pur-
pose for Shade; but in what Manner they
were contrived he does not describe. What-
ever they were, Nature must be the best Pat-
tern to imitate. We find, that when we gape
with our Mouths wide open, our Breath issues
out warm ; but when we blow with our Lips
pretty close together, the Air comes out cool.
Thus in an Edifice, when the Air comes
through a very wide Aperture, especially if the
Sun lies upon that Aperture, it is warm ; but
if it passes through a straiter and more shady
Passage, it comes quicker and cooler. If warm
Water be carryed in a Tube through cold Water,
it will be refrigerated. The same will hold
good of Air. It is a Question what is the
Reason that those that walk in the Sun do not
tan so soon as those that sit in it; but the
Answer is easy: For by our Motion the Air
too is moved, whereby the Sun’ s Rays are
thrown aside. Moreover, in order to make
the Shade the Cooler, we may add Roof to
Roof, and Wall to Wall, and the greater Space
that is left between these, the Cooler, will be
our Shade and the more impenetrable to the
Heat; for this Interval between has almost the
same Effect for this Puipose as a Wall of the
same Thickness would have; and in one Re-
spect it is better, because a Wall would retain
either the Heat of the Sun or the Cold that had
once penetrated it much longer; whereas
these double Walls will preserve an equal Tem-
perature of the Air. In Places where the Sun
is excessively scorching, a Wall built of Pumice
Stone will admit the least Heat and retain it
the least Time. If the Doors to the private
Apartments are double, that is to say, if there

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be two Doors, one opening inwards and the
other outwards, with a Space of about two Foot
between them, what is said within cannot be
over-heard by those who arc without.

CHAP. XIV.

Some more minute Particulars relating to the Use of Fire.

If we build in a very cold Place, we shall
be obliged to make use of Fire, which is
done several Ways, but the most convenient of
all is to have it in an open Place, where we can
see it shine while we feel its Warmth; for
when it is enclosed, as in Stoves, the Smoke is
apt to affect the Eyes and injure the Sight.

To this add, that the very Sight of the Flame
and Light of a Brick Fire, is a chearful Com-
panion to the old Men that are chatting to-
gether in the Chimney Corner. But then up
towards the Middle of the Funnel of the
Chimney there ought to be a transverse Iron
Door, which you may shut when all the Smoke
is exhausted, and the Fire burns perfectly
bright, and so stop up the Tunnel, in order to
prevent any Wind from getting down that
Way into the Room. Walls built of Flint or
Marble are both cold and damp; for by their
Chilness they compress the Air into Moisture.

Soft Stone and Brick are more convenient, when
they are thoroughly dried. Those who venture
to sleep between Walls that are new and wet,
especially if the Cieling be arched, are sure to
catch some very dangerous Illness, Pains,

Fevers, or Rheums. Some by that Folly have
lost their Eye-sight, others the Use of their
Limbs, some their Senses. In order that they
may dry the sooner, the Windows and Doors
should be left open to give the Winds a
thorough Passage. The best Walls for the

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Health of the Inhabitants are those built of
Brick not burnt but dried in the Sun two Years
before. Incrustations of Stuc thicken the Air
and make it unwholsome and prejudicial to
the Lungs and Brain. If you wainscot your
Walls with Fir or even Poplar, it will make the
House the wholsomer, warmer in Winter, and
not very hot in Summer; but then you will
be troubled with Mice and Bugs. This you
may prevent by stuffing the Interspace with
Reeds, or stopping up all the Holes and Re-
heats of those Vermin with Chalk and Hair
tempered together with Lees of Oil: for all
Sorts of Oil are mortal Enemies to those
Vermin which breed of Corruption.

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CHAP. XV.

By what Methods to destroy or drive away Serpents, Gnats, Bugs, Flies, Mice,
Fleas, Moths, and the like troublesome Vermin.

Since we are fallen upon this Subject, I
shall venture to set down some Things
which we find in very grave Authors. It
were certainly to be wished, that a Building
could be free from all Manner of Inconvenien-
cies. The Inhabitants of Mount AStnci insti-
tuted a Sacrifice to Hercules, because he de-
livered them from the Gnats; as did also the
Milesians for dealing their Vineyards from the
Caterpillars. The / Eolians sacrificed to Apollo
for destroying their Swarms of Mice. These
were doubtless great Benefits; but by what
Means they were done, has not been recorded.

However, in some Authors I find what follows:

The Assyrians by means of a burnt Liver, to-
gether with an Onion and a Squill hanging
over the Transom of the Door, drove away all
poisonous Animals. Aristotle says, that Ser-
pents may be driven from a House by the
Smell of Rue, and that by laying some Flesh
in a Pot you will draw great Numbers of
Wasps into it, where you may shut them in,
and that by laying Sulphur and Bastard-mar-
joram upon the Holes of Ants-nests, you may
exterminate the Ants, Sabinus Tyro wrote to
Maecenas, that if their Holes were stopt up
with Sea-mud, or Ashes, it would destroy
them. Pliny says, that the Herb Wart-wort
will effectually do it. Others think that pour-
ing in Water where unbaked Brick has been
steept, is a great Enemy to them. The Anci-
ents affirm, that Nature has made mortal En-
mities between certain Animals and certain
Things, insomuch, that the one is sure De-
struction to the other. Hence the Weasel flies

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1

from the Smell of a roasted Cat, and Serpents
from that of a Leopard. Thus they tell us,
that when a Leech sticks the most obstinately
to a Man’ s Flesh, if you apply a Bug to its
Flead, it will immediately quit its Flold, and
fall off languid; as, on the other hand, the
Smoke of a burning Leech will drive the Bug
out of his most private lurking Places. Solinus
says, that strewing a Place with some of the
Dust of the Isle of Thanet, in Britain, will
presently drive away Serpents: And Flistorians
relate, that the same may be done by the
Earth of several other Places, and particularly
of the Island Ebusus. The Fai th of the Island
Galeon belonging to the Garamanthes kills
both Serpents and Scoipions. Strabo says, that
the Africans, when they went to rest, used to
rub the Feet of their Beds with Garlick, to
keep off the Scoipions. Sasernas tells us how
to kill Bugs, in the following Words. Boil a
wild Cucumber in Water; then pour it where-
ever you think fit; they will never come near
the Place; or else rub your Bedstead with an
Ox’ s Gall mixed with Vinegar. Others direct
us to fill up all the Cracks with Lees of Wine.
The Root of the Flolm-oak, says Pliny, is an
Enemy to Scoipions, and the Ash too is excel-
lent against such noxious Animals and especially
Serpents; which also will never retire under
Fern. Serpents are likewise driven away by
the Burning of a Woman’ s Flair or of a Goat’ s
Florn, or of that of a Stag, or of the Sawdust of
Cedar, or of some Drops of Galbanum, or of
Osier, green Ivy or Juniper; and those who
are rubbed with Juniper-seed are perfectly se-
cure from Hurt by Serpents. The Smell of
the Herb Haxus inebriates Aspics, and lays
them so fast asleep that they are quite be-
numbed. Against Canker-worms we are di-
rected only to stick the Skeleton of a Mare’ s

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Head upon a Post in the Garden. The Palm-
tree is an Enemy to Bats. Where-ever you
sprinkle Water wherein Elder-flowers have been
boiled, you will kill all the Flies; but this is
sooner done with Hellebore, especially with
the black Sort. Burying a Dog’ s Tooth, to-
gether with his Tail and Feet in the Hill, will
they say rid you of Flies. The Tarantula
cannot endure the Smell of Saffron. The
Smoke of burning Hops will kill the Gnats.

Mice are killed by the Smell of Wolf-bane,
though it be at a Distance. So both Mice
and Bugs are destroyed by the Smoke of
Vitriol. Fleas, if you sprinkle the Place with
a Decoction of Coloquintida or of the Caltrop-
thistle, will all vanish. If you sprinkle a Place
with Goat’ s-blood, they will march to it in
whole Swanns; but they are driven away by
the Smell of Colewort, and yet more effectu-

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1

ally by that of Oleander. Broad flat Vessels
full of Water set about the Floor are dangerous
Traps for Fleas that take their Leaps too da-
ringly. Moths are driven away by Worm-
wood, Anise-seed, or the Smell of the Flerb
Savin: Nay we are told, that Cloaths are safe
from them so long as they hang upon Ropes. But
upon this Subject we have dwelt long enough,
and perhaps longer than a very grave Reader
may like; but he will pardon it, if he con-
siders, that what we have said may be of some
Service for ridding a Situation of Inconvenien-
cies, and that all is little enough against the
incessant Plague of these intolerable Vermin.

CHAP. XVI.

Of making a Room either warmer or cooler, as also of amending Defects in
the Walls.

I now return to my Subject. It is a
wonderful Thing, that if you cover a Wall
with Hangings woven of Wool it will make
the Room warmer, and if they are of Flax,
colder. If the Platform be damp, dig Pits
and Drains under it, and fill them up either
with Pumice-stone or Gravel, to prevent the
Water from rotting in them. Then strew
the Ground with Coal to the Height of one
Foot, and cover that with Sand or rather
with Tiles, and over all this lay your Floor.

It will be all to no Purpose if there is Room
for the Air to pass under the first Pavement
or Floor. But against the Heat of the Sun in
Summer, and the Severity of the Cold in Win-
ter, it will be of very great Service, if the Soil
thereabouts in general is not damp but dry.

Under the Area of your Parlour dig away the
Earth to the Depth of twelve Foot, and then
floor it with nothing but naked Boards; the

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Space beneath which is floored only with Plai-
ster will make the Air in your Parlour much
cooler than you would imagine, insomuch that
you shall find it make your Feet cold even
when your Shoes are on, nothing being over
the subterraneous Pavement but plain Boards.
The Ceiling of this Parlour should be arched;
and then you will be surprized how warm it
will be in Winter and how cold in Summer.

If you are troubled with the Inconvenience
which the Satyrist complains of the Noise of
Carriages passing through a narrow Street, to-
gether with that of the rough Language of
their bruitish Drivers, so dreadful to the poor
Man in his sick Bed; Pliny the younger tells
us, in one of his Epistles, how to prevent this
Disturbance, in the following Words. Next
to this Room lies the Chamber of Night and
of Repose, in which was never heard the Voice
of Servants, nor the hollow Murmur of the Sea,
nor the Crack of Tempest, nor can you here
perceive the Gleam of Lightening, nor even
the Light of the Sun, unless you open the
Windows, so retired is the Place. The Reason
is, that there is a Lobby between this Cham-
ber and the Garden, in which intermediate
Space all the Sounds are lost, let us now come
to the Walls. The Defects in these are as fol-
lows; either they scale off, or they crack, or
the Ribs give Way, or they lean from their
Perpendicular. The Causes of these Defects
are various, and so are their Remedies. Some
of the Causes indeed are manifest, others more
concealed, so that often we know not what
Remedies to apply, till we have severely felt
the Mischief. Others are not in the least ob-
scure; but then perhaps the Negligence of
Men makes them inclined to hope that they
may not do so much Hurt as they certainly
will do. The manifest Causes of Defects in

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the Wall are, when it is too thin, when it is
not well knit together, when it is full of im-
proper dangerous Apertures, or lastly, when it
is not sufficiently strengthened with Ribs
against the Violence of Storms. Those Causes
which happen unexpected or unforeseen, are
Earthquakes, Lightening, the Inconstancy of
the Foundation, and indeed of Nature itself.

But in short, the greatest Injury to all Parts
of a Building is the Negligence and Heedless-
ness of Men. A certain Author says, that a
Weed is a secret Battering-ram against a Wall;
nor is it to be believed what vast Stones I have
myself seen removed and pushed out of their
Places by the Force, or indeed by the Wedge
of a little Root that grew between the Joints;
which if you had only pulled out while it was
young, the Work would have been preserved
from that Injury. I greatly commend the
Ancients, who kept a Number of People in

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Pay, only to preserve and look after the pub-
lick Buildings. Agrippct left Pay for two hun-
dred and fifty for this Purpose, and Ccesar for
no less than four hundred and sixty; and they
dedicated the next fifteen Feet to the Structure
to lie quite clear by their Aqueducts, that their
Sides or Arches might not breed any Weeds
to demolish them. The same seems to have
been done even by private Persons, with re-
lation to those Edifices which they were de-
sirous to have eternal; for we find, that the
Inscription upon their Sepulchres generally
mentioned how many Foot of Ground was
consecrated to Religion in that Structure;
sometimes it was fifteen, sometimes twenty.

But not to fall into a Repetition of these Things,
the Ancients thought, that you might entirely
destroy a Tree even after it was pretty well
grown, if in some Part of the Dog-days you
cut it down to the Fleight of one Foot, and
boring a Flole through the Fleart, pour into it
Oil of Vitriol mixed with Powder of Brimstone,
or else sprinkling it plentifully with a Decoc-
tion of burnt Bean-shells. Columella says, that
you may destroy a Wood with the Flower of
Flops steept one Day in Juice of Flemlock,
strewed about the Roots. Solinus says, that a
Tree touched with the Menstrua will lose its
Feaves, and some affirm, that it will even kill
the Tree. Pliny says, that a Tree may be
killed by touching the Root with a wild Car-
rot. But to return to the Defects of a Wall.

If a Wall be thinner than it ought to be, we
m st either apply a new Wall to the old one,
in such a Manner that they may make but
one; or, to avoid the Expence of this, we
may only strengthen it with Ribs, that is to
say, with Pilasters or Columns. A new Wall
may be superinduced to an old one, as follows.
In several Parts of the old Wall fix strong

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1

Catches made of the soundest Stone, sticking
out in such a Manner as to enter into the Wall
which you are going to join to the other, and
to be in the Nature of Bands between the two
Walls; and your Wall in this Case should al-
ways be built of square Stone. You may for-
tify an old Wall with a new Pilaster, in the
following Manner. First mark out its future
Breadth upon the Wall with red Oker. Then
open a Break in the Bottom of the Wall quite
down below the Foundation, in Breadth some
small Matter more than your Pilaster, but not
very high. Then immediately fill up this Break
with square Stone worked together strong and
even. By this Means that Paid of the Wall
which is between the red Marks will be shored
up by the Thickness of the Pilaster, and so the
whole will be made stronger. Then in the
same Manner that you have laid the Bottom of
this Pilaster you must go on to work up the
Body of it quite to the Top. Thus much of
a Wall that is too thin. Where the Wall has
not made good Bond, we must use Cramps or
Spars of Iron, or rather of Brass; but you
must take great Care that you do not weaken
the Ribs by boring the Floles from them. If
the Weight of any crumbling Fai th pushes
against some Part of the Wall, and threatens
Injury to it by its Flumidity, dig a Trench
along the Wall as broad as you find it neces-
sary, and in this Trench build some Arches to
support the Weight of the Earth which is
falling in, with a Current or Drain through
these Arches for the Flumidity to purge off
by; ot else lay some Girders along the Ground
with the Pleads setting against the Wall which
is shoved out by the Weight of the Fai th, and
let the Pleads of these Girders into Summers,
which you may cover over with new Earth.
This will strengthen the Foundation, because

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this new Earth will consolidate, and grow
compact, before the Strength of the Girders
will give Way.

CHAP. XVII.

Of some Defects which cannot be provided against, but which may be repaired
after they have happened.

I now proceed to those Defects which can-
not be foreseen, but which when they have
happened may be repaired. Cracks in the
Wall and Inclination from the Perpendicular,
are sometimes occasioned by the Arches over it,
which push out the Wall, or because it is not
sufficiently strong to bear the Weight which is
laid upon it. But the greatest Defects of this
Sort almost constantly proceed from some Faults
in the Foundation; however we may easily

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1

discover whether they are from thence, or from
some other Cause by certain Symptoms. Thus
to begin with Cracks in the Wall; to which so-
ever Side the Crack runs in its Ascent, on that
Side you may be sure the Cause of the Defect
lies somewhere in the Foundation. If it does
not verge to either Side, but runs up in a direct
Line, and grows wider at the Top, then let us
take a careful View of the Courses of Stone-
work on each Side; for on which ever Side
they sink from their Level, on that Side we
may be sure the Foundation has failed. But
if the upper Paid of the Wall is entire, and
there are Cracks in several Places towards the
Bottom, which in their Ascent run together
close at Top; then we may be satisfied that
the Corners of the Building stand firm, and
that the Defect is somewhere about the Mid-
dle in the Foundation. If there is but one
Crack of this Sort, the higher up it goes, the
the more it shews the Corners to have given
Way. In order to strengthen the Foundations
in any of these Cases, according to the Magni-
tude of the Structure and the Solidity of the
Ground, dig a narrow Pit near the Wall, but
so deep as to come to a firm Soil, and there
breaking through the Bottom of the Wall,
immediately work up to it with square Stone,
and then leave it to settle. When that is set-
tled, dig another Pit in another Part, and un-
derprop it in the same Manner, and in the same
Manner give it Time to settle. By this Means
you will make a Kind of new Foundation to
the whole Wall. But if even by digging you
cannot come at any firm Ground, then make
Floles in certain Places not too near the Cor-
ners, but pretty close to the Foundation of the
Wall, on both Sides, that is to say, as well un-
der the Roof as under the open Air, and into
those Floles drive Piles as close as they will stick.

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1

and over them lay the stoutest Summers you
can get lengthways, with the Sides of the Wall.
Then across these Summers lay the strongest
Girders running under the Bottom of the
Foundation, which must rest with their whole
Weight upon these Girders, as it were upon a
Bridge. In all these Reparations great Care
must be taken that no Paid of the new Work
be too weak to support the Weight which is to
bear upon it, and that for ever so long
Time: because the whole Pile heal ing towards
that weaker Part, would immediately fall to
Ruins. But where the Foundation has given
Way somewhere about the Middle of the Wall,
and the upper Part does not appear to be af-
fected by the Crack, then upon the Face of
the Wall mark out with your Oker an Arch
as large as the Case requires, or, in other Words,
so big as to take in all that Part of the Wall
which is sunk. Then beginning at one End
of this Arch, break into the Wall with an
Opening not bigger than one Stone of your in-
tended Arch will fill up; which Stones in an
Arch we formerly called Wedges, and im-
mediately insert one of these Wedges in such a
Manner that its Lines may exactly answer to
the Center to which you have described your
Arch. Then make another Break close above
it, and fill it up with another such Wedge;
and so continuing the Work successively,
compleat your whole Arch: and thus you
may fortify you Wall without Danger. If a
Column or any other of the Ribs of the Building
is weakened, you may restore it in the following
Manner. Underprop the Architrave with a
strong Arch of Tile and Plaister beat together,
as also with Piers of Plaister rais’ d for this
Puipose, in such a Manner that this new Arch
may quite fill up the old Intercolumnation, or
Aperture between the Ribs: and let this un-

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1

derproping be run up as fast as possible, and
without the least Intermission. It is the Nature
of Plaister to swell as it dries: so that this new
Work, though quite fresh, will be able to take
upon itself and sustain the Weight of the old
Wall Vault. Then, having before got ready
all your Materials, take out the defective
Column, and supply its Place with a sound
one. If you chuse rather to rest the old Wall
upon Timbers, then undershore it with Levers
made of strong Beams, and load the longer
Ends of those Levers with Baskets filled with
Sand, which will raise up the Weight by de-
grees equally and without any Shocks. If the
Wall is swerved from its Perpendicular, fix
Planks or Timbers upright against it, and
against each of these set a strong Timber by
Way of Shore, with its Foot stretching at some
Distance from the Wall. Then either with
Levers or with Wedges, drive forwards the Feet
of the Shores by degrees, so as they may press
against the Wall, and so by distributing this
Force equally in all Parts, you will raise the
Wall again to its perpendicular. If this
cannot be done, prop it up with Shores of
Timber fixed well in the Ground, with their
Ends well daubed over with Pitch and Oil to
prevent their being corroded by the Touch of
Mortar; then erect Buttresses of square Stone,
built so as to enclose those Shores of Timber.

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1

Perhaps a Colossus or some small Church is
sunk to one Side in its whole Foundation. In
this Case, you must either raise that Part which
is sunk, or take away that Part which is too
high; both very bold Attempts. The first
Thing you are to do, is to bind and fasten to-
gether, as strongly as possible, the Foundation
and those Parts which will be in Danger of
being separated by Motion, with good Timbers
and the strongest Braces. There are no bet-
ter Sort of Braces than strong Hoops of Iron
with Wedges drove in between them to keep
them tight. Then we raise up the Side of the
Wall which is sunk with strong Timbers put
under it aster the Manner of Levers, as above.

If you would rather rectify the Fault by taking
away from the Side which is too high, you
may do it in the following Manner: Dig away
the Ground about the Middle of that Side
quite below the Foundation, in the Bottom of
which you must there open a Break, not very
wide, but high enough for you to make it good
with strong square Stone. In making good
this Break you must not work it up quite to
the rest of the Building, but leave some Inches
space between the new Work and the Old;
and this Space you must fill up with Wedges
of the toughest Oak drove in at very small Dis-
tances from each other. In this Manner you
must go on to shore up all that Side which you
want to let down lower. When the whole
Weight is thus supported, knock out the
Wedges by degrees, as gently and cautiously as
possible, till the Wall is sunk to its just Perpen-
dicular. Then fill up the Spaces between the
Wedges which arc left, with other Wedges of
the strongest Stone that can be got. In the
great Basilique of St. Peter at Rome , some Parts
of the Wall which were over the Columns
being swerved from their Uprights, so as to

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threaten even the Fall of the whole Roof; I
contrived how the Defect might be remedied
as follows. Every one of those Parts of the
Wall which had given Way, let it rest upon
what Column it would, I determined should
be taken clear out, and made good again with
square Stone which should be worked true to
its Perpendicular, only leaving in the old Wall
strong Catches of Stone to unite the additional
Work to the former. Lastly, I would have
supported the Beam under which those uneven
Parts of the Wall were to be taken out, by
means of Engines, called Capra ‘ s, erected
upon the Roof, setting the Feet of those En-
gines upon the strongest Parts of the Roof and
of the Wall. This I would have done at dif-
ferent Times over the several Columns where
these Defects appeal – . The Capra is a naval
Engine consisting of three Timbers, the Pleads
of which meet and are strongly braced or
bound together, and the Feet stretch out to a
Triangle. This Engine, with the Addition of
Pullies and a Capstern is very useful for raising
great Weights. If you are to lay a new Coat
over an old Wall or an old plaistered Floor, firft
wash it well with clean Water, and then with
a Brush whiten it over with Whiting dissolved
and mixed with marble Dust; and this will
prepare it for holding the new Coat of Plaister
or Stuc. If a Pavement which is exposed to
the open Air has any Cracks in it, you may
stop them up with Ashes sifted fine, and tem-
pered Oil, especially of Linseed. But the best
Material for this Sort of Reparation is Chalk
mixed with quick Lime well beat together and
thoroughly burnt in the Kiln, and then slaked
immediately with Oil; taking Care before you
fill up the Cracks with it to clean them from
all manner of Dust, which you may do with
Feathers, or by blowing it out with Bellows.

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Nor let us under this Article of Amendments,
quite forget all Ornament. If any Wall looks
unhandsome from being too high, embellish it
either by fastening on a Cornice of Stuc-work,
or by Painting it like Pannels, in order to divide
its Height into more decent Proportions. If
a Wall be too long, adorn it with Columns
reaching from the Top to the Bottom, not set
too close to each other, which will be a kind of
Resting-places to the Eye, and make the ex-
cessive Length appear less offensive. There is
another Thing not foreign to our present Pur-
pose. Many Parts of a Building, from being
either placed too low or encompassed with
Walls not high enough, seem less, and more
contracted than they really are; whereas when
they are either raised upon a higher Platfom,
or have some Addition made to the Height of
their Walls, they seem at a Distance much
larger than they did before. It is also certain,
that a handsome Disposition of the Apertures,
and placing the Door and Windows gracefully,
gives all the Aparments a greater Share both
of Dignity and Elegance than is to be imagined.

The End of Book X.

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