but does not bury him. Some fallen branches in the forest are

the right material for his purpose; he chooses four of the

strongest, raises them upright and arranges them in a square;

across their top he lays four other branches; on these he hoists

from two sides yet another row of branches which, inclining

towards each other, meet at their highest point. He then

covers this kind of roof with leaves so closely packed that

neither sun nor rain can penetrate. Thus, man is housed.

Admittedly, the cold and heat will make him feel uncomfort$-$

able in this house which is open on all sides but soon he will

fill in the space between two posts and feel secure$.$

Such is the course of simple nature; by imitating the

natural process, art was born. All the splendors of architec$-$

ture ever conceived have been modeled on the little rustic hut

I have just described. It is by approaching the simplicity of

this first model that fundamental mistakes are avoided and

true perfection is achieved. The pieces of wood set upright

have given us the idea of the column, the pieces placed

horizontally on top of them the idea of the entablature, the

inclining pieces forming the roof the idea of the pediment.

This is what all masters of art have recognized. But take note

of this: never has a principle been more fertile in its effect.

From now on it is easy to distinguish between the parts which

are essential to the composition of an architectural Order and

those which have been introduced by necessity or have been

added by caprice. The parts that are essential are the cause of

beauty, the parts introduced by necessity cause every license,

the parts added by caprice cause every fault. This calls for an

explanation; I shall try to be as clear as possible.

Let us never lose sight of our little rustic hut. I can only see

columns, a ceiling or entablature and a pointed roof forming

at both ends what is called a pediment. So far there is no

vault, still less an arch, no pedestals, no attic, not even a door

or a window. I therefore come to this conclusion: in an

architectural Order only the column, the entablature and the

pediment may form an essential part of its composition. If

each of these parts is suitably placed and suitably formed,

nothing else need be added to make the work perfect.

We still have in France a beautiful ancient monument,

which in Nimes is called the Maison Carr$$e$.$ Everybody,

connoisseur or not, admires its beauty. Why? Because every$-$

thing here accords with the true principles of architecture: a

rectangle where thirty columns support an entablature and a

roof$-$closed at both ends by a pediment $T$ that is all; the

combination is of a simplicity and a nobility which strikes

everybody. $[$The author of the Examen ${?}^1$ disapproves of my

intention to establish a strict relation between all parts of our

buildings and those of the rustic hut. He should have ex$-$

plained to us in detail the laws which make this relation

faulty because if it is based on solid grounds, as I maintain

and as all masters of the art have suggested, then no way

exists any longer of attacking the rules which I establish in

the articles that follow. They are all necessary consequences

of this simple principle. If I am to be refuted, the whole line

of action amounts to this: either show that the principle is

wrong or that the conclusion does not follow from it$.$ One

will strike in vain as long as one does not use one or the other

of these two weapons against me$.$ All declamations, even all

insults will be to no purpose. The judicious reader will always

come back to this question: is the principle wrong or the

conclusion? The only reason brought up against the proved

relation between our buildings and the rustic hut is that we

should be allowed to move a little away from this coarse and

shapeless invention. We have, indeed, moved far away from

it through the grand gout of the decoration which we have

put in place of the careless faults of such crude composition,

but the essential must remain$-$the rough sketch which na$-$

ture offers us$.$ Art must only make use of its resources to

'Examen d'un essat sur Farchitecture, Paris, $1753.$ See p$.148.($Transla$-$

'Examen dis note.$)$ tor's