gradual decay and by the incursions of the Goths, Huns, Persians, etc., and eventually by the tremendous inundation of the followers of Mahomet. That such a glorious result as Byzantine architecture should have been produced out of materials so lifeless, and through the agency of a decaying nation, speaks volumes for the power of religion over art. Let us turn, however, to the Western empire. There the case is still stronger. With the same decayed and lifeless art as their nucleus, the people of Christian Rome had the additional disadvantage caused by the removal of the seat of government, and with it of the seat of art, to Constantinople; nevertheless, their first efforts were so successful, that though, in the words of Thomas Hope, “The architecture of the Heathen Romans, in its deterioration, followed so regular a course, that that which most nearly preceded the conversion of its rulers to Christianity is also the worst,”--the same author tells us that “the early Christian buildings, from their simplicity, the distinctness, the magnificence, the harmony of their component parts, had a grandeur which we seek in vain in the complicated architecture of modern churches.” What course art would have taken had the Roman empire continued it is impossible to judge. It was destined to share the fate of the empire itself, and to be utterly overwhelmed by that mighty deluge which severs the ancient from the modern world; so that its Christianisation, instead of being gradual and progressive, as in the East, became a complete reconstruction by the successors of those who had destroyed it, though aided in their work by the friendly hands of those who, in the Eastern empire, had kept alight the lamp of civilisation.[1] The architecture of the West, therefore, instead of being a mere translation of the old style from Pagan to Christian uses and expression, was a new creation, formed, it is true, out of the ancient _débris_, but nevertheless originated, carried on, and perfected by Christian nations and for Christian uses, and may, consequently, be said, even in a stronger sense than that of Byzantium, to be a distinct Christian style; and I suppose none would doubt that its culminating point, and that to which all its progress tended, was the Pointed architecture of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries.