ting or important. I have not, it is true, spoken of the
carved oaken gable and shadowy roof of the Norman village; of the black
crossed rafters and fantastic proportions which delight the eyes of the
German; nor of the Moorish arches and confused galleries which mingle so
magnificently with the inimitable fretwork of the gray temples of the
Spaniard. But these are not peculiarities solely belonging to the
cottage: they are found in buildings of a higher order, and seldom,
unless where they are combined with other features. They are therefore
rather to be considered, in future, as elements of street effect, than,
now, as the peculiarities of independent buildings. My remarks on the
Italian cottage might, indeed, be applied, were it not for the constant
presence of Moorish feeling, to that of Spain. The architecture of the
two nations is intimately connected: modified, in Italy, by the taste of
the Roman; and, in Spain, by the fanciful creations of the Moor. When I
am considering the fortress and the palace,[4] I shall be compelled to
devote a very large share of my attention to Spain; but for
characteristic examples of the cottage, I turn rather to Switzerland and
England. Preparatory, therefore, to a few general remarks on modern
ornamental cottages, it will be instructive to observe the peculiarities
of two varieties of the mountain cottage, diametrically opposite to
each other in most of their features; one always beautiful, and the
other frequently so.

[Footnote 4: That part, however, was not written, as the "Architectural
Magazine" stopped running soon after the conclusion of Part II. "The
Villa."]

38. First, for Helvetia. Well do I remember the thrilling and exquisite
moment when first, first in my life (which had not been over long), I
encountered, in a calm and shadowy dingle, darkened with the thick
spreading of tall pines, and voiceful with the singing of a
rock-encumbered stream, and passing up towards the flank of a smooth
green mountain, whose swarded summit shone in the summer snow like an
emerald set in silver; when, I say, I first encountered in this calm
defile of the Jura, the unobtrusive, yet beautiful, front of the Swiss
cottage. I thought it the loveliest piece of architecture I had ever had
the felicity of contemplating; yet it was nothing in itself, nothing but
a few mossy fir trunks, loosely nailed together, with one or two gray
stones on the roof: but its power was the power of association; i