msels, hawking, jousting, banqueting and playing chess,
everything which stirred the poet's imagination, is depicted. The spirit
of the romances which in modern times enchanted the English
Pre-Raphaelites, six centuries ago provided food and stimulus to the
industrious illuminators whose names have long been forgotten.

If the art of miniature painting never rose--excepting in its wider
consequences--to universal significance, mediaeval architecture stands
before our eyes magnificent as on the first day. Until the middle of the
twelfth century the monumental structures of Europe were directly
influenced by the later Hellenic civilisation. The Byzantine basilica
was slowly transformed into the Neo-Latin house, and thus, in this
important domain also, Europe drew her inspirations from antiquity. But
only the ground-plan of the Gothic cathedral, that is to say, the idea
of a nave with side-aisles, was traditional and borrowed from Neo-Latin
models. From this invisible ground-plan rose something absolutely
original and autochthonic. This new, specifically Central-European style
of architecture was developed on soil where there were no antique
buildings to stem the new life with their overwhelming domination, and
to bar the way of artistic inspiration with their ominous "I am
perfection!" In every branch of art antiquity had proved itself a foe,
until at last the Renascence was sufficiently mature to assimilate and
overcome the antique inheritance so completely that it became an
excellent fertiliser for the new art. The essence of the Gothic style is
the dissolution of all that is heavy and material--the victory of spirit
over matter. Walls were broken up into pillars and soaring arcades;
monotonous facework was tolerated less and less, and every available
inch was moulded into a living semblance. The result may be studied in
the incomparable facades of many of the cathedrals in the North of
France; and in tower-pieces almost vibrating with life and passion such
as that of St. Stephen's in Vienna. The conflict between matter and pure
form is settled--for the first and only time--in Gothic architecture.
The Greek temple with its correct proportions possessed no more than
perfection of form without spiritual admixture; it was perfect as marble
statues, which are an end in themselves, and do not point the way to
spiritual truths. Gothic architecture is probably unique in its blending
of aesthetic perfection of form and infinite