ext a three-light
window, and so on.

This we find in buildings erected at one time and under one architect.
Where, however, a building begun at one period was continued at
another (and this, it must be remembered, was the rule, not the
exception, with all large Gothic buildings), the architect, while
usually repeating the same features, with the same general forms,
invariably followed his own predilections as to detail. There is a
very good example of this in Westminster Abbey, in the western bays of
the nave, which were built years later than the eastern bays. They
are, to a superficial observer, identical, being of the same height
and width and shape of arch, but nearly every detail differs.

Disclosure, rather than concealment, was a principle of Gothic design.
This was demonstrated long ago by Pugin, and many of his followers
pushed the doctrine to such extremes, that they held--and some of them
still hold--that no building is really Gothic in which any part,
either of its construction or arrangement, is not obviously visible
inside and out.

This is, however, carrying the principle too far. It is sufficient to
say that the interior disposition of every Gothic building was as
much as possible disclosed by the exterior. Thus, in a secular
building, where there is a large room, there usually was a large
window; when a lofty apartment occurs, its roof was generally
proportionately high; where a staircase rises, we usually can detect
it by a sloping row of little windows following the line of the stair,
or by a turret roof.

The mode in which the thrust of vaults is counterpoised is, as has
been shown, frankly displayed by the Gothic architects, and as a rule,
every portion of the structure is freely exhibited. It grows out of
this, that when an ornamental feature is desired, it is not
constructed purely for ornament, as the Romans added the columns and
cornices of the orders to the outside of their massive walls purely as
an architectural screen; but some requisite, of the building is taken
and ornamented, and in some cases elaborated. Thus the belfry grew
into the enormous bell tower; the tower roof grew into the spire; the
extra weight required on flying buttresses grew into the ornamental
pinnacle; and the window head grew into tracery.

There were, however, some exceptions. The walls were still constantly
faced with finer masonry than in the heart, and though some are
unwilling to admit the fact, were often