tains one pure Gothic character, which adds not a
little to its nobleness, that of perpetual variety. There is hardly one
window of it, or one panel, that is like another; and this continual
change so increases its apparent size by confusing the eye, that, though
presenting no bold features, or striking masses of any kind, there are
few things in Italy more impressive than the vision of it overhead, as
the gondola glides from beneath the Bridge of Sighs. And lastly (unless
we are to blame these buildings for some pieces of very childish
perspective), they are magnificently honest, as well as perfect. I do
not remember even any gilding upon them; all is pure marble, and of the
finest kind.[5]

And therefore, in finally leaving the Ducal Palace,[6] let us take with
us one more lesson, the last which we shall receive from the Stones of
Venice, except in the form of a warning.

Sec. XXXIX. The school of architecture which we have just been examining
is, as we have seen above, redeemed from severe condemnation by its
careful and noble use of inlaid marbles as a means of color. From that
time forward, this art has been unknown, or despised; the frescoes of
the swift and daring Venetian painters long contended with the inlaid
marbles, outvying them with color, indeed more glorious than theirs, but
fugitive as the hues of woods in autumn; and, at last, as the art itself
of painting in this mighty manner failed from among men,[7] the modern
decorative system established itself, which united the meaninglessness
of the veined marble with the evanescence of the fresco, and completed
the harmony by falsehood.

Sec. XL. Since first, in the second chapter of the "Seven Lamps," I
endeavored to show the culpableness, as well as the baseness, of our
common modes of decoration by painted imitation of various woods or
marbles, the subject has been discussed in various architectural works,
and is evidently becoming one of daily increasing interest. When it is
considered how many persons there are whose means of livelihood consist
altogether in these spurious arts, and how difficult it is, even for the
most candid, to admit a conviction contrary both to their interests and
to their inveterate habits of practice and thought, it is rather a
matter of wonder, that the cause of Truth should have found even a few
maintainers, than that it should have encountered a host of adversaries.
It has, however, been defended repeatedly by architects them