against its excess. On the removal of the centers of civilization northward, the openings for the admission of the light of day became objects of solicitude, and thenceforth the windows are the principal parts of the wall in which they are pierced.
A naturalist of the new school might describe to us the changes which would be induced in a plant or other organism translated from the sunny climate of its birth to the cold and murky atmosphere of the north, and surviving, by virtue of its "fitness" for a place in its new home. Let us follow, as rapidly as possible, the behavior of the art of building in like circumstances. In doing so we may conveniently take the examples to be found in our own island; for, although the Gothic architecture prevailed throughout the greater part of Europe during the middle ages, it ran its course with greater regularity, and for a much longer period, in England than on the Continent. Owing chiefly to its geographical position, this country was the first to lose the connection with imperial Rome, and the last to feel the full force of the Renaissance.
The first effect of the new state of things was in a direction completely opposed to the aspirations to which we have referred. The general sense of insecurity which followed the withdrawal of the Roman legions made the strength of their walls the first care of the early builders, and windows and doors were necessarily reduced to the narrowest dimensions. Hence the heavy character of the styles denominated Romanesque, represented in this country by Saxon and early Norman works. The relative measurements established by classic taste were everywhere ignored by the Christianized barbarians; and, if even our rude Saxon forefathers could have appreciated them, they must have been abandoned through necessity. There are no complete buildings in this country which can be pronounced with certainty to be genuine Saxon works. For a description of the buildings of that period we are dependent on the accounts of early writers, aided by fragments which have been incorporated with works of later construction. The Saxon churches are described as low, small, and mean, with very thick walls, and floors sunk below the level of the ground.
For four hundred years our ancestors endured these dark, dismal stone erections—that is to say, where they enjoyed the luxury of a stone church, for probably at that time most of their religious buildings were, like their houses, of wood. Two interesting features, however, relieve this dreary period. One is the triangular-headed window, a remarkable anticipation of. the pointed arch; and the other, the insertion of a small pillar in the center of some windows, which is evidently the forerunner of the mullion. An excellent example of a window in which both these peculiarities are combined is to be seen at Barton-upon-Humber. The date is about a. d. 800.
Toward the end of the tenth century a first step was made in the
