rity of Walter Scott's writings. But Abbotsford is evidence
enough of the superficiality of his own knowledge of the art; and during
the first half of the nineteenth century, Gothic design was applied not
to churches, but to the more ambitious classes of domestic architecture.
The country houses of the nobility and landed gentry were largely built
or rebuilt in what was known as the castellated style.[21] Meanwhile a
truer understanding of the principles of pointed architecture was being
helped by the publication of archaeological works like Britton's
"Cathedral Antiquities" (1814-35), Milner's "Treatise on Ecclesiastical
Architecture" (1811), and Rickman's "Ancient Examples of Gothic
Architecture" (1819). The parts of individual buildings, such as
Westminster Abbey and Lincoln Cathedral, were carefully studied and
illustrated with plans and sections drawn to scale, and measurement was
substituted for guesswork. But the real restorer of ecclesiastical
Gothic in England was Augustus Welby Northmore Pugin, an enthusiast, nay,
a fanatic, in the cause; whose "Contrasts" (1836) is not only a landmark
in the history of the revival of mediaeval art, but a most instructive
illustration of the manner in which an aesthetic admiration of the Middle
Ages has sometimes involved an acceptance of their religious beliefs and
social principles. Three generations of this family are associated with
the rise of modern Gothic. The elder Pugin (Augustus Charles) was a
French _emigre_ who came to England during the Revolution, and gained
much reputation as an architectural draughtsman, publishing, among other
things, "Specimens of Gothic Architecture," in 1821. The son of A. W. N.
Pugin, Edward Welby (1834-73), also carried on his father's work as a
practical architect and a writer.
Pugin joined the Roman Catholic Church just about the time when the
"Tracts for the Times" began to be issued. His "Contrasts: or a Parallel
between the Architecture of the Fifteenth and Nineteenth Centuries" is
fiercely polemical, and displays all the zeal of a fresh convert. In the
preface to the second edition he says that "when this work was first
brought out [1836], the very name of Christian art was almost unknown";
and he affirms, in a footnote, that in the whole of the national museum,
"there is not even one room, one _shelf_, devoted to the exquisite
productions of the Middle Ages." The book is a jeremiad over the
condition to which the cathedra
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