DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.26753#0010
8
closely as I can to the architectural question, pointing out what
has been done wrong, and suggesting how it may be remedied
or better done in future. It may appear absurd, after stating
the question in such generality, to descend at once to the cri-
ticism of architectural details; but the way I look on the ques-
tion is analogous to this : supposing it is deemed expedient to
„ irrigate an arid plain, the first thing to ascertain is, would irri-
gation be useful; the next, whence the water for the purpose is
to be brought; and if it is found that some rocks block up the
gorge of a valley, and turn a river which would suffice for the
purpose into an opposite and useless direction, the first point
appears to me to be to show that these rocks do obstruct the
flow of the water, and the second to show how they may be re-
moved. When we have got our water, we may think of using
it; but it is rather a work of supererogation to plan drains and
conduits, and to map out water-courses, till before we obtained
a supply of the fluid that is to fill them.
My own belief is, that the architectural question is the rock
that now diverts the waters of knowledge from flowing where
their fertilizing influences are so much needed, and that the first
step must be the removal of this obstruction. Once the wTater
flows fairly through the plain, men will easily find out how to
use it. At present, we have tied ourselves up hand and foot by
an absurd and most expensive system of architecture. We have
thirsted for knowledge, and our architects have given us nothing
but stones. To go no further for illustration than the first
instance I shall have to adduce, the Government have grudgingly
doled out for the purchase of the collections of the British Mu-
seum—these collections being, the Museum—345,000/. during
ninety-three years, and during the last twenty-five have spent
more than 70*3,000/. on a building to contain them. If the
building were perfect, this perhaps should not be grudged; but
as I think I can show it to be about the most inconvenient as well
as the most expensive that could well be designed, and that it
is that which really prevents the extension of the collection and its
being made availably useful, I think I shall be justified in calling
it the rock that stops the current for which we thirst. Had, for
instance, the conditions been reversed, and 700,000/. spent in the
collection, 345,000/. on the building, we should have been able
to look down on the Vatican or the Louvre, and neither the
closely as I can to the architectural question, pointing out what
has been done wrong, and suggesting how it may be remedied
or better done in future. It may appear absurd, after stating
the question in such generality, to descend at once to the cri-
ticism of architectural details; but the way I look on the ques-
tion is analogous to this : supposing it is deemed expedient to
„ irrigate an arid plain, the first thing to ascertain is, would irri-
gation be useful; the next, whence the water for the purpose is
to be brought; and if it is found that some rocks block up the
gorge of a valley, and turn a river which would suffice for the
purpose into an opposite and useless direction, the first point
appears to me to be to show that these rocks do obstruct the
flow of the water, and the second to show how they may be re-
moved. When we have got our water, we may think of using
it; but it is rather a work of supererogation to plan drains and
conduits, and to map out water-courses, till before we obtained
a supply of the fluid that is to fill them.
My own belief is, that the architectural question is the rock
that now diverts the waters of knowledge from flowing where
their fertilizing influences are so much needed, and that the first
step must be the removal of this obstruction. Once the wTater
flows fairly through the plain, men will easily find out how to
use it. At present, we have tied ourselves up hand and foot by
an absurd and most expensive system of architecture. We have
thirsted for knowledge, and our architects have given us nothing
but stones. To go no further for illustration than the first
instance I shall have to adduce, the Government have grudgingly
doled out for the purchase of the collections of the British Mu-
seum—these collections being, the Museum—345,000/. during
ninety-three years, and during the last twenty-five have spent
more than 70*3,000/. on a building to contain them. If the
building were perfect, this perhaps should not be grudged; but
as I think I can show it to be about the most inconvenient as well
as the most expensive that could well be designed, and that it
is that which really prevents the extension of the collection and its
being made availably useful, I think I shall be justified in calling
it the rock that stops the current for which we thirst. Had, for
instance, the conditions been reversed, and 700,000/. spent in the
collection, 345,000/. on the building, we should have been able
to look down on the Vatican or the Louvre, and neither the