ed, like the dove of Noah, in that she found no rest upon the
face of the waters,--but like her in this also, "LO, IN HER MOUTH WAS AN
OLIVE BRANCH, PLUCKED OFF."

Sec. LXXII. The fourth essential element of the Gothic mind was above
stated to be the sense of the GROTESQUE; but I shall defer the endeavor
to define this most curious and subtle character until we have occasion
to examine one of the divisions of the Renaissance schools, which was
morbidly influenced by it (Vol. III. Chap. III.). It is the less
necessary to insist upon it here, because every reader familiar with
Gothic architecture must understand what I mean, and will, I believe,
have no hesitation in admitting that the tendency to delight in
fantastic and ludicrous, as well as in sublime, images, is a universal
instinct of the Gothic imagination.

Sec. LXXIII. The fifth element above named was RIGIDITY; and this
character I must endeavor carefully to define, for neither the word I
have used, nor any other that I can think of, will express it accurately.
For I mean, not merely stable, but _active_ rigidity; the peculiar energy
which gives tension to movement, and stiffness to resistance, which
makes the fiercest lightning forked rather than curved, and the stoutest
oak-branch angular rather than bending, and is as much seen in the
quivering of the lance as in the glittering of the icicle.

Sec. LXXIV. I have before had occasion (Vol. I. Chap. XIII. Sec. VII.)
to note some manifestations of this energy or fixedness; but it must be
still more attentively considered here, as it shows itself throughout
the whole structure and decoration of Gothic work. Egyptian and Greek
buildings stand, for the most part, by their own weight and mass, one
stone passively incumbent on another: but in the Gothic vaults and
traceries there is a stiffness analogous to that of the bones of a limb,
or fibres of a tree; an elastic tension and communication of force from
part to part, and also a studious expression of this throughout every
visible line of the building. And, in like manner, the Greek and
Egyptian ornament is either mere surface engraving, as if the face of
the wall had been stamped with a seal, or its lines are flowing, lithe,
and luxuriant; in either case, there is no expression of energy in
framework of the ornament itself. But the Gothic ornament stands out in
prickly independence, and frosty fortitude, jutting into crockets, and
freezing into pinnacles; here sta