way allowed to alter or conceal it. Indeed, in proportion as the building was of a more public nature, the wooden hut might be even said to be more carefully imitated. Nowhere was it seen more distinctly marked, than in that magnificent temple at Athens, dedicated to Minerva, the patron Deity of the city. As the rude Greek cabin of wood, was more varied and definite in its component parts, than either the tent or the excavation, the similitude was much more striking in all its details, and throughout all its alterations and embellishments.

So powerful is the principle which has been stated as influencing the peculiar style of architecture belonging to any particular race of men, that should some original and fundamentally different mode of building be anywhere discovered, we may be sure its singularities have, at some period, taken their rise from a temperature, a material, or a system of customs and manners, radically at variance with those of the communities we have mentioned.*

There is one mighty element in the perpetuation of a distinct style of architecture among extensive races, which requires special notice. I allude to religious views and prepossessions. The priesthood in early ages form a powerful and united fraternity, who excel the other members of their tribe in learning, and exercise a despotic power over their ignorant and superstitious minds. Prejudice and policy combine, in such a body, to repress innovation, and to perpetuate the customs, habits, and practices, of the remote antiquity from which they date their origin, and with which their fabulous mythology is intimately associated. Such a class of men was found in the Egyptian priesthood, in the Indian Brahmins, and in the religious order of Greece. From these societies emanated the laws which regulated the public taste, and under their direction the mighty fabrics were reared, which have preserved, even to our own

Hope on Architecture, chap. iv.

day, a practical knowledge of the architecture of their age. Had it been otherwise, it would have been scarcely possible to account for the uniformity which prevails in the character and style of their public buildings. Tyrants are capricious, and a free people are inventive. It belongs to a corporation of priests alone, to wield a power such as that displayed in the art we are considering, with a rigid and undeviating uniformity of design.

NINTH WEEK-FRIDAY.

ARCHITECTURE.-ITS ANCIENT HISTORY AND PRACTICE-EGYPT,

THEBES.

In giving a historical sketch of ancient architecture, I commence with Egypt, not because it contains specimens of the art which can be proved to be the most ancient, but because its ruins are in many respects the most remarkable and imposing which the world contains. The early history of the art, however, is lost in the gloom of antiquity. The devastating conquests to which the ancient Egyptians were subjected, have destroyed the memorial of their internal transactions, and placed the records of their arts out of the reach even of the earliest historians. Herodotus only commences his account after the seat of empire had been translated from Thebes to Memphis, and his personal knowledge of the country was not acquired until a hundred years after Cambyses had laid the unrivalled edifices of Upper Egypt in ruins. The origin and progress, therefore, of the powerful state which erected these imperishable traces of its ancient glory, are totally unknown to us.

From the magnificent description of Thebes by Homer, we learn that it had risen to great importance previous to the Trojan war, or about 1200 years before the Christian era. Cambyses invaded Egypt about 700 years

subsequent to this period, and the inhabitants had, during this long interval, continued to flourish, and to increase in wealth and population. This seems to have been a sufficient extent of time for the accomplishment of those mighty works which have immortalized the Thebaid.

With the invasion of Cambyses terminated the splendour of Upper Egypt. He carried with him, not only conquest, but destruction. His warfare was not merely with the people, but with their palaces and religious houses. He bore off in his triumphal train, the artists as well as the spoils; leaving this once splendid valley a hopeless scene of desolation: And to add to its deplorable condition, two centuries afterwards war again visited it with exterminating fury, under the ruthless hand of the destroyer of the dynasty of Cambyses. And yet, such is the indestructible nature of these gigantic efforts of art, that, notwithstanding the repeated attacks of these not less powerful enemies the Romans, united to the natural waste of three thousand years, the ruins of Upper Egypt still continue so magnificent as to form a theme of astonishment and admiration, even to the present enlightened age.

Upper Egypt contains structures of three distinct forms,-1st, The simple pyramid; 2d, Apartments inclosed by sculptured walls, with flat roofs, supported by rows of columns, and connected by open porticos; and 3d, Caverns, grottos, or tombs.

It would be inconsistent with the design of this work to enter into any lengthened description of the various ruins of this wonderful country of the dead; but some account of the remains of the ancient metropolis itself, the date of whose destruction is far anterior to the first erection of the most celebrated cities of Greece and Rome, cannot fail to be interesting and instructive.

The sentiment which first strikes the mind of the traveller, in viewing this immense ruin, is that of surprise and awe at the enormous size of the materials, and the

extraordinary efforts of human power which had been lavished in their erection :-Sonini describes his sensations, "not as simple admiration, but as an exstacy which suspended his faculties, rendered him immoveable with rapture, and inclined him to prostrate himself in veneration of such monuments, the rearing of which appeared to transcend the strength and genius of man." Denon assures us that "the whole French army, coming suddenly in sight of the ruins, with one accord stood in amazement, and clapped their hands with delight, as if the end and object of their glorious toil, and the complete conquest of Egypt, were accomplished and secured, by taking possession of the splendid remains of this ancient metropolis."

The following is a plain and unexaggerated account of the general appearance of the scene by a sensible British traveller." It is difficult to describe the noble and stupendous ruins of Thebes. Beyond all others they give you the idea of a ruined, yet imperishable city; so vast is their extent that you wander a long time confused and perplexed, and discover at every step some new object of interest. From the Temple of Luxor to that of Karnac is a mile and half, and they were formerly connected by a long avenue of Sphinxes, the mutilated remains of which, the heads being broken off the greater part, still line the whole path: Arrived at the end of this avenue, you come to a lofty gateway of granite, quite isolated. About fifty yards farther you enter a temple of inferior dimensions; you then advance into a spacious area, strewed with broken pillars, and surrounded with vast and lofty masses of ruins,—all parts of the great temple. A little on your right is the magnificent portico of Karnac, the vivid remembrance of which will never leave him who has once gazed on it. Its numerous colonnades of pillars, of gigantic form and height, are in excellent preservation, and without ornament; the ceiling and walls of the portico are gone; the ornamented platstone still connects one of the rows

of pillars with a slender remain of the edifice attached to it. Passing hence you walk amidst obelisks, porticos, and statues; the latter without grace or beauty, but of a most colossal kind. If you ascend one of the hills of rubbish, and look around, you see a gateway standing afar, conducting only to solitude; and detached roofless pillars, while others lie broken at their feet, the busts of gigantic statues appearing above the earth, while the rest of the body is yet buried, or the head torn away.

"The length of the great temple of Karnac is estimated at 1200 feet, and its breadth at 400; and among its hundred and fifty columns are two rows, each pillar of which is ten feet in diameter. On the left spread the many deserts of the Thebais, to the edge of which the city extends. In front is a pointed and barren range of mountains. The Nile flows at the foot of the temple of Luxor; but the ruins extend far on the other side of the river, to the very foot of those formidable precipices, and into the wastes of sand."*

The whole character of Egyptian architecture is that of gloomy grandeur, and sublime vastness. Every thing indicates the ambition of taxing the human powers to the utmost in producing these effects; and the success of the effort is truly astonishing, especially if we take into account what we are bound to believe of the imperfect state, at that early period, of the mechanical arts. Modern machinery, if applied to such an object, might easily be made to effect greater wonders; but how man could, without the use of those powers, which have bestowed upon him a strength immensely surpassing his own, detach from the living rock, convey to great distances, and erect on high buildings, those immense blocks which baffled the vindictive rage of the destroyer or wearied his perseverance, has in every age, and not less in our own, confounded the conjectures of the most learned and ingenious antiquaries, and eluded the calculations of the most scientific artists.

* Carne's Travels in the East.