r dim; its undecomposing surface preserves a soft, fruit-like
polish forever, slowly flushed by the maturing suns of centuries. Hence,
while in the Northern Gothic the effort of the architect was always so
to diffuse his ornament as to prevent the eye from permanently resting
on the blank material, the Italian fearlessly left fallow large fields
of uncarved surface, and concentrated the labor of the chisel on
detached portions, in which the eye, being rather directed to them by
their isolation than attracted by their salience, required perfect
finish and pure design rather than force of shade or breadth of parts;
and further, the intensity of Italian sunshine articulated by perfect
gradations, and defined by sharp shadows at the edge, such inner anatomy
and minuteness of outline as would have been utterly vain and valueless
under the gloom of a northern sky; while again the fineness of material
both admitted of, and allured to, the precision of execution which the
climate was calculated to exhibit.

44. All these influences working together, and with them that of
classical example and tradition, induced a delicacy of expression, a
slightness of salience, a carefulness of touch, and refinement of
invention, in all, even the rudest, Italian decorations, utterly
unrecognized in those of Northern Gothic: which, however picturesquely
adapted to their place and purpose, depend for most of their effect upon
bold undercutting, accomplish little beyond graceful embarrassment of
the eye, and cannot for an instant be separately regarded as works of
accomplished art. Even the later and more imitative examples profess
little more than picturesque vigor or ingenious intricacy. The oak
leaves and acorns of the Beauvais moldings are superbly wreathed, but
rigidly repeated in a constant pattern; the stems are without character,
and the acorns huge, straight, blunt, and unsightly. Round the southern
door of the Florentine duomo runs a border of fig-leaves, each leaf
modulated as if dew had just dried from off it--yet each alike, so as to
secure the ordered symmetry of classical enrichment. But the Gothic
fullness of thought is not therefore left without expression; at the
edge of each leaf is an animal, first a cicala, then a lizard, then a
bird, moth, serpent, snail--all different, and each wrought to the very
life--panting--plumy--writhing--glittering--full of breath and power.
This harmony of classical restraint with exhaustless fancy,