We have seen that Christian architecture sprang from the ruins of paganism, and attained the loftiest growth. The mutual dependence of every thing on earth, whether in the primary creations of God, or the secondary creations of man, is strikingly exemplified in this art. Roman architecture was the offspring of Greece, and the parent of the Byzantine, Lombard, and Norman styles; from which again sprung that most magnificent proof of man's power over dull matter, the Pointed system of decorated construction. From first to last there is no gap nor pause in the progress of improvement. Even when fearful signs were seen in the heavens, and Rome, the former centre of civilization, had become a nest of robbers, art was still fostered under the auspices of Charlemagne. Other calamities impended, in the midst of which that mighty monarch passed away, and in the crypt of his famous church at Aix-la-Chapelle, royally robed and crowned, sceptred and enthroned, his good sword Joyeuse by his side, and the Bible on his knees, he was set to await, with the dull stare of a waxen image, the approaching advent of the Judgment Day. Still new principles took root, and the mighty tide of improvement swept onward. As the Tiber more and more murmured the sepulchral sentiment of romance, the Rhine teemed with the thrilling power of its living energy. Hence the thousand echoes of those castellated hills, and sacred associations around secluded vales, which form the diapason of a sublime antiquity. The beacon towers, melodious belfreys, festal halls, and moss-covered shrines, the desolate cloisters, the dungeons, and the very sepulchres repeat to each other, and to the susceptible visitant, the reiterated glories of king and kayser. Architecture is far more expressive of both public and private life than any other art can be. The sight of its dilapidated records reminds us of the God's Truces, of the Crusades, of Feudalism, and of Chivalry, the virtues, crimes, joys, and calamities of long lapsed centuries. Nor can we explore these hoary fabrics without remembering how their vaults resounded long ago with the psalmody and groans of our ancestors, who, during that tremendous struggle, came to the foot of the altar, begging of God to give them strength to suffer and to hope. Saracenic art is a highly enriched and magnificent variety of Romanesque, yet fantastic and incongruous, a sort of dead Gothic, presenting the pointed arch and other characteristics of that style, but without one spark of its pervading spirit. These lifeless forms were adopted by the Teutonic architects, and by them endued with life and power. They were the first to grasp the great law that construction and decoration must proceed from the same source, and in a masterly way they exemplified the fundamental principle which they had the sagacity to comprehend.