seen in light. There exists one thing which can ravish us, and this is measure or scale. To achieve scale! To map out in rhythmical quantities, animated by an even impulse, to bring life into the whole by means of a unifying and subtle relationship, to balance, to resolve the equation. For, if this expression may be a paradox in talking of painting, it fits well with architecture; with architecture which does not concern itself with representation or with any element that relates to the human countenance, with architecture which works by quantities.
These quantities provide a mass of material as a basis for work; brought into measure, introduced into the equation, they result in rhythms, they speak to us of numbers, of relationships, of mind.
In the balanced silence of S. Maria in Cosmedin there stand out the sloping handrail of a pulpit and the inclined stone book-rest of an ambo in a conjunction as silent as a gesture of assent. These two quiet oblique lines which are fused in the perfect movement of a spiritual mechanics—this is the pure and simple beauty that architecture can give.
