fts will both be
found to look blank unless they receive some chasing or imagery; blank,
whether they support a chair or table on the one side, or sustain a
village on the ridge of an Egyptian architrave on the other.

Sec. XVI. Of the various ornamentation of colossal shafts, there are no
examples so noble as the Egyptian; these the reader can study in Mr.
Roberts' work on Egypt nearly as well, I imagine, as if he were beneath
their shadow, one of their chief merits, as examples of method, being
the perfect decision and visibility of their designs at the necessary
distance: contrast with these the incrustations of bas-relief on the
Trajan pillar, much interfering with the smooth lines of the shaft, and
yet themselves untraceable, if not invisible.

Sec. XVII. On shafts of middle size, the only ornament which has ever been
accepted as right, is the Doric fluting, which, indeed, gave the effect
of a succession of unequal lines of shade, but lost much of the repose
of the cylindrical gradation. The Corinthian fluting, which is a mean
multiplication and deepening of the Doric, with a square instead of a
sharp ridge between each hollow, destroyed the serenity of the shaft
altogether, and is always rigid and meagre. Both are, in fact, wrong in
principle; they are an elaborate weakening[83] of the shaft, exactly
opposed (as above shown) to the ribbed form, which is the result of a
group of shafts bound together, and which is especially beautiful when
special service is given to each member.

[Illustration: Fig. LXII.]

Sec. XVIII. On shafts of inferior size, every species of decoration may be
wisely lavished, and in any quantity, so only that the form of the shaft
be clearly visible. This I hold to be absolutely essential, and that
barbarism begins wherever the sculpture is either so bossy, or so deeply
cut, as to break the contour of the shaft, or compromise its solidity.
Thus, in Plate XXI. (Appendix 8), the richly sculptured shaft of the
lower story has lost its dignity and definite function, and become a
shapeless mass, injurious to the symmetry of the building, though of
some value as adding to its imaginative and fantastic character. Had all
the shafts been like it, the facade would have been entirely spoiled;
the inlaid pattern, on the contrary, which is used on the shortest shaft
of the upper story, adds to its preciousness without interfering with
its purpose, and is every way delightful, as are all the inlaid sha