Nor let it be supposed that the architecture, thus made ready as the nucleus of subsequent developments, was in itself essentially rude, or mean, or barbaric. I admit that it was stern and severe, and lacking the refinements of advanced art; and that its sculpture, though a reflection from that of Byzantium--as that had been from ancient Greece--was nevertheless grim, uncouth, and unrefined; yet in grandeur of conception and in vastness of scale its productions vied with those of almost any period or country; and I shall be able to show you that it contained principles the most profound and accurate, and capable of being carried forward to any degree of refinement. A single half-century had, in fact, filled the length and breadth of our land with structures of prodigious scale and impressive grandeur, founded on the most reasonable principles, and containing, in a rough and unrefined form, the most prolific and the most artistic elements. So many of these vast edifices have given place to others of more advanced style, or have been recklessly destroyed, that we can now with difficulty realise the architectural status of a country where they were rising or were just completed in every town and (on a reduced scale) in almost every village;--a period when vast fortresses, such as the Tower of London and the stupendous keeps of Rochester, of Norwich, and of Headingham were specimens of the vernacular architecture to be seen all over the land; when the now shattered ruins of Newark and the grim tower of Newcastle were as freshly erected as their names imply; when the awful names of Durham and Gloucester were but specimens of the “new manner of building” then recently introduced, and which pervaded the whole land; and when no city, or hardly a village, could be approached without the lofty scaffoldings heaving first into view which surrounded campaniles which could boast such as those at St. Alban’s and Tewkesbury as their types. We will, however, quit the track of mere history, to inquire into the intrinsic principles of the architecture thus far attained, and in course of development; and I must beg to be forgiven if, in doing so, I am compelled at times to repeat what I have brought under your notice in former lectures; for, not then intending to go systematically into this inquiry, I have occasionally forestalled my subject by adverting to these principles, as the course of my historical sketch chanced to suggest. I shall, then, firstly consider the architecture in question,--this “_novum genus ædificandi_,”--from a point of view bearing upon its great structural characteristic as a purely _arcuated_ style, and one whose strivings all took the direction of rendering that structural fact the main source, as well as the main receptacle, of its artistic character and decoration. Now what, I would ask, are the conditions necessary to an _arcuated_, as distinguished from a _trabeated_, style?