In a similar manner an architectural work may be restricted by want of space, lack of materials, climatological conditions, etc., and thus cannot absolutely adhere to the artistic law. It must struggle along and develop as best it can within the scope of its circumstances, and thus many works of art, like many organisms, never attain full develop ment. Vet there is a peculiar charm even in this. Would a landscape in which every tree stood in strict symmetry of position and growth like the ideal of an orange tree he pleasing to our eyes? Just as we are forcibly attracted by the individuality that each tree assumes by rea son of the interference of so many natural forces with its natural law of growth, and are charmed by the wonderful variety of forms that has resulted while we follow with interest the grouping of different parts of a living tree, so are we fascinated by the stamp of originality and the picturesque appearance which a building obtains from the influence of external circumstances.
But, further, when the storms of time have wrought their changes on the completed structure, when they have cracked and scarred it as storms split and tear the limbs of a tree, when mosses and lichens, soil and cob webs, and even a varied vegetation, have covered its walls, then its original beauty is enhanced, and the ruins, whether singly or in combi nation, possess a charm peculiarly their own. It is true that this charm differs from that possessed by a complete work of art the analogue of which is a perfectly symmetrical, fully-developed, and erect tree. But this picturesque appearance of the tree is not the result of any definite intention of Nature, nor can we in our search for originality ever succeed by pruning and binding the branches in producing more than a cari cature.
The laws of Nature are rigorous, and all that men can do for the tree that it may not become a distortion is to remove all obstacles which impede its development, and to contribute whatever its nature demands. Thus also in Architecture, when the artist attempts to supply what Time only can furnish, or when he uselessly and purposely violates the laws of artistic construction, of harmony, and of symmetry, only a distortion is the result. This law of harmony may no more be sacrificed to a clearly false artistic intention than may utilitarian purpose be likewise sacrificed, for it is and ever will be the foundation of all creation in the domain of art as in that of Nature.
Geometrical question has often been raised whether the architect in designing ought to employ the compass and square to formulate a geometrical scheme of the plan and details of his building, or whether he should arrange his dimensions and proportions in artis tic freedom, following his genius only. The answer, as regards general proportions, is that where extraneous demands do not require originality, and where size and form are not imperatively prescribed by utility, a sym metrically-arranged building with its parts in harmonious relation to one another is always to be expected;' but whether in the attainment of this the artist is guided by his own ideas of proportion and harmony, or, distrusting his own powers, has recourse to geometrical constructions, depends entirely on the individual case.